Deathtrooper
by ErrorPleaseReload
Summary: Deathtroopers are some of the galaxy's most feared soldiers. Trained, augmented, and programmed from an early age, their skill in combat is nearly unmatched by any combatant. However, when one of these vicious killers and a girl he was tasked with protecting crash on an alien planet, his skills are put to the test against a foe far more vile than any he had faced before.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own neither Goblin Slayer nor Star Wars, though I wish I did.**

* * *

 **Deathtrooper**

 **Chapter 1**

 **Motivations**

* * *

DT-227, that has been his designation for as long as he could remember. He had no name beyond the walls of fortresses and starships, just another black helmet among the seas of white armored Stormtroopers and the grey of the officer corps.

He was what they called a 'Deathtrooper', an elite and genetically altered soldier trained nearly from birth by the Special Forces Bureau. A mere 300 of them existed, protecting high-level moffs, administrators, and officers. They were feared by all, most contenders believing them not to even be human. That was wrong, but they, the Deathtroopers, may as well not be. They were monsters, attack dogs kept on a tight leash by their officers and commanders.

That didn't bother DT-227, for he was trained and raised for one purpose; serving the Empire. He did that job without pride and killed without prejudice in any engagement he was sent out on.

Deathtroopers did not feel, they did not laugh nor cry. They were droids, but more vicious, they were clones but without personality. Twas the sad existence of their kind, but they did their job without complaint or regret.

DT-227 was out on one such job with his commanding officer and a squad of their three other brothers, DT-109, DT-53, and DT-201. They were headed to some primarily jungle outer rim planet where it was believed the daughter of the regional governor was being held by pirates and mutineers from her security detail.

None of them spoke, they never did unless it was necessary. After all, there was nothing to talk about among them. Their plan was embedded in their minds like an insect in the skin, the entirety of their existence focused on that idea.

The officer directing them, or more precisely acting as their handler, addressed the group.

"The daughter is to be saved at all costs, alive and unharmed. Anyone between you and her is to be killed, do not worry about killing them all. The fleet will finish whatever is left after she is secured and extracted," The officer, with his posh, high-class tone of voice, addressed their commander. The man spoke without a hint of fear, and a sign of how much he dealt with their sort. Most saw a Deathtrooper and felt a twinge of terror or fear. After all, they towered over the average human thanks to their augmented bodies. The jet black armor and voice scramblers certainly didn't make them any more approachable. People like the officer, however, knew the Deathtroopers would never harm them. Not only that, but they physically _couldn't_ unless other orders or directives countermanded that. It would have been humorous to DT-227, the fact that the officer's continued survival was balanced entirely upon a preprogramming the Deathtroopers received, had, in fact, had a sense of humor to speak of.

"Yes, sir," Responded their commander, though it was probably more the nod he gave the officer that gave his confirmation, as the man couldn't understand a word they were saying. The officer studied the face of the commander's helmet for a few more moments before giving a sharp nod a returning to the cockpit of the shuttle.

"Arrival is in five minutes, be ready," Were his final words to them before the doors closed. The moment they did, the commander nodded to his men. They all rose to their feet, having been seated on the seats arrayed on opposite sides of the shuttle's bay.

A few minutes passed before the shuttle landed with a hefty rock, signaling their arrival. The ramp leading out of the shuttle opened soon after, bathing the black armored soldiers and their dark compartment with light. The commander signaled forwards for the squad to move, and they didn't waste a moment, spilling out with blasters raised. The group created a semi-circle about the shuttle's ramp. The pilots, evidently not looking to wait around, took off the moment the commander stepped off. The squad watched as their transport left, leaving them with a jungle filled with traitors and brigands.

Without a word, the squad prowled forwards. They all had their blasters raised, scanning the trees from hostiles. The commander wordlessly indicated left with his off hand, one of the men turning and slipping that direction. DT-53, the squad marksman, was soon gone and out of both visual and auditory range.

The rest prowled onwards, headed where their sensors pointed the compound to be. The only resistance met was a couple of guards, one a traitor adorned in Stormtrooper armor.

DT-227 made quick work of one with his combat knife, the pirate dispatched by the snapping of his neck, the handy work of their commander. With those two dispatched, the group made their way forwards with little worry about being caught unawares by another patrol. After all, the officers inside likely doubted Deathtroopers would be deployed. A belief that would cost them dearly, rare though Deathtroopers might be.

The squad came to the clearing that housed the base, estimated to hold around two-hundred hostiles armed to the tooth.

Light resistance.

"Take down the sentries at the front gate," Ordered the commander over the radio. In response, the two sentries in their towers dropped from some unseen force.

"Down," Responded the marksman, his gruff voice muffle somewhat by the hiss of his rifle. The commander indicated towards the wall with one hand before creeping forwards himself. The squad slinked after their commander, stopping at the wall and extending their wrists. On each of their identical suits of armor, a small hole opened to reveal a small, metal hook. They all aimed up, firing. The grappling hooks landed, entrenching themselves into the wall above.

The squad climbed, reaching the top in a matter of moments. This was all in spite of the fact that the wall was, at the very least, seven meters tall with not clear grips.

"Sweep and clear," Ordered the commander before vaulting over what little of the wall remained and falling to the dusting earth below. The rest followed, landing hard and _loud_. Every eye in the courtyard turned to them, shock and even a little fear written in those many faces.

Not a word was spoken by the Deathtroopers, they were not here for prisoners. Their blasters roared to life, cutting down pirate and traitor alike in mere seconds. Their precision fire put the Stormtroopers to shame and made short work of the poorly trained pirates.

DT-227 broke off, cutting across the courtyard while putting down a few more of the hostiles. It wasn't a fight, the traitors and hostiles were ill-prepared for such a vicious and decisive assault, likely too distracted to notice the sniper support.

Within seconds, two dozen men lay dead in the courtyard.

"Clear," Chorused the squad, marksman included. The commander indicated towards the compound with one hand and the squad moved silently towards its side door. Alarms had already started blaring, not that it would even slow the Deathtroopers down.

A slice later and the door was open, allowing them easy access to the interior of the compound. Silent as the great hunters of Felucia, the squad of intimidating and massive Deathtroopers slunk through the flashing hallways of the treasonous compound.

The squad carved through any and all hostiles like a hot knife through butter, suffering no casualties as they went.

"Three hostiles and the target," Announced the engineer of the squad, a small device in hand that he had slipped under the door to the final room. The commander nodded, grabbing a grenade from his belt.

"227, stun grenade on my mark," Ordered the commander, giving his own grenade a small toss as if testing its weight. DT-227 complied, grabbing his own grenade and twisting the top, eliciting a low beep. The commander nodded to the engineer, who was in the middle of retracting his odd device. The soldier quickly sliced the panel but stopped from opening the door outright. The engineer looked to the commander, awaiting the order.

"Now," Ordered the commander in a conversational tone, as if they weren't here to butcher cowardly traitors and the like.

The door slid open, not even fulling coming to a stop before two grenades bounced in.

"STUN-" Cried one of the guards before the two grenades went off. The Deathtroopers poured in, cutting down those who remained with the vicious efficiency expected of them.

"Clear," Came the chorus of voices as they spilled in. The girl, their intended target, was curled on the ground, desperately rubbing her eyes. The commander knelt down and, none too nicely, grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet.

"We are here to rescue you, ma'am," Said the commander, briefly deactivating his voice scrambler. The girl blinked the tears from her eyes, coming face-to-face with the intimidating face of the commander's helmet. She screamed, naturally, and tried to pry her arm from his iron grip. This would never work, of course, as the man barely reacted as he rose.

"We need evac," The commander said into the comms.

"Copy, moving to the extraction point," Responded one of the pilots on their shuttle. The commander nodded to his men, still ignoring the sobbing and struggling girl. No one even looked at her as they made their way back out of the compound. Naturally, a few more helpless cases tried to stop the squadron of Deathtroopers. They were of no concern.

The squad made it out in record time, but they reached a problem. It seemed half the remaining guards were outside, waiting for the squad. The commander pushed the girl towards DT-227, who took her without a word even as she gave a shocked cry at the abrasive shove.

"Stay here," The commander told him as he and the rest of the squad dove outside.

"Yes, sir," DT-227 responded simply, standing unmoving as the sounds of fighting outside reached their ears. The girl, still sobbing albeit a little quieter now stared up at him. The fear in her eyes should never have moved the Deathtrooper, he had seen the look before on targets moments before he pulled the trigger. Yet there was something in their bright, watery depths that touched his iron heard.

It felt… Wrong, this feeling. Was it pity? He couldn't remember…

"It's okay, you're safe now," He spoke before he could stop himself, the words slipping from his mouth. The voice scrambler had been turned off, an action he didn't remember taking. He silently admonished himself as the girl flinched but seemed to stop her crying. She gave a slight nod, seemingly believing DT-227. He opened his mouth to say more but was cut off by voices coming in over the radio.

"Clear!" He reactivated his scrambler and walked out, pulling the girl along behind him. He loosened his grip as she stopped struggling.

"It's 400 meters to the evac site, 227, carry the girl," Ordered the commander. DT-227 responded by sweeping the girl up in his arms, eliciting a cry of shock from her. The front gate opened, the guards who had been there previously laying about the defenses, dead. The squad dropped into dead sprints, sailing across the ground as if they were hovering, not running.

They reached the evac site in record time, the shuttle already waiting for them. Their handler and one of the pilots stood outside, blasters raised and searching the landing zone. Upon spotting the Deathtroopers, the pilot slipped back inside as the officer stood off to one side, granting them room inside. The Deathtroopers slowed to a near stop as they reached the ramp, entering the shuttle wordlessly. The officer nodded to the squad, a critical eye passing over them, before hitting a button on a nearby console. The ramp barely started closing when the pilots took off, clearly in a hurry to get off the planet.

"Command, LZ clear, you are clear, over," The officer said to his wrist communicator.

"Copy, Major Jeron, preparing for orbital bombardment." Came the cultured tone of the communication operator aboard the Star Destroyers above the planet's surface.

Another five seconds passed before the roar of explosions came from behind the shuttle. DT-227 knelt down and set the girl back on her own feet, indicating to one of the seats. With a sniff, she took it and buckled her self in, purposely avoiding DT-227's gaze. 227, briefly, looked at her before shaking his head and rising, whatever this sentimentality was it needed to go.

"227, keep an eye on the girl," His commander ordered as he and the other Deathtroopers unloaded themselves and replaced their blasters on the holding bays.

"Shuttle I-15, report to extraction point Delta-1, over," Came the voice of the commanding officer aboard one of the three ISDs that had provided the barrage.

"Copy, _Supremacy_ , Major Jeron, out," The officer lowered his wrist and sat at a console located at the front of the bay. Silence reigned, save the quiet conversation between their commander and the officer, the others all still unloading themselves. DT-227 took the moment to look back down at the girl, blaster held loosely at his side.

The fear in her eyes had been replaced by apprehension. The unasked question she had lingered in the air for a few moments before he spoke.

"We're taking you back to your father, don't worry," DT-227 spoke softly, feeling a slight amount of shame at being so… _human._ He was anything but, he was a weapon, not some compassionate soul.

She visibly flinched at the word 'father', something not lost on the Deathtrooper. He didn't have a moment to ask, however, as the shuttle suddenly lurched due to some unseen force. DT-227 nearly lost his footing, catching himself on one of the girl's armrests. The officer in command of the Deathtroopers cursed before turning his seat and yelling up to the cockpit.

"Pilot, what was that?!"

"T-The hyperdrive, sir, something-" the pilot's next words was lost to the occupants of the holding area, as the ship suddenly lurched forwards again. This time, it didn't stop. All Deathtroopers, DT-227 included, were thrown back towards the entrance ramp. Unlike the others, however, DT-227 was saved by the fact that he was holding the armrest of the girl. The sudden force still hurt like all hell and bent the durasteel armrest, but it saved DT-227 the fate suffered by his squad. The rest of the Deathtroopers hurtled backward and into the closed ramp behind, their collision combined with a number of audible _cracks_. The girl, apparently in some vain hope of helping him, grabbed DT-227's hand and pulled. It did literally nothing to help him, but DT-227 appreciate the sentiment. The sounds of the shuttle's shields struggling to keep the hull together filling his ears, DT-227 tried to pull himself forwards. He managed to get his foot onto the armrest of a chair closer to the ramp, giving him some leverage to pull. It was a pain, a force several times that than anything they were put through during training fighting him every step of the way.

His grip grew weaker, the push too much even for his augmented body. DT-227 began slipping, fingers slowly losing all feeling as they lost more ground on the armrest.

Then, something clicked in his mind.

 _ **The mission, protect the governor's daughter.**_

A small voice, sounding distinctly like that of Governor Tarkin, spoke quietly. A sudden boost of adrenaline and purpose forced him forwards like someone had just injected him with enough bacta to kill a Rancor.

With a forearm, he forced the girl to a sitting position as he climbed. The force, which was once so overwhelming, became nothing more than a minor nuisance. He climbed into the seat on her immediate right, buckling himself in and thanking whatever force it was that gave him the much-needed push. She yelled something, but even the helmet's heightened hearing capabilities failed to pick it up.

DT-227 put a hand on her back and forced her to lean down. He then quickly put both of her hands on the back of her head, giving a slight push to indicate they should stay this way. He tried to do the same, but the thrice-damned chestplate blocked him.

Their travel lasted another five minutes before the ship shook violently and came to a sudden, and equally painful, stop. The girl screamed, the officer yelled, and DT-227 grunted as his head was thrown sideways, sending sharp pain up his neck.

The girl tried to sit up but was stopped by DT-227's hand. They were still flying or perhaps falling if the rattling was anything to go by.

The question lasted no more than half a second as, suddenly, the collided with… _Something_. The ship rolled, throwing DT-227's head into the wall of the shuttle.

Everything went dark and he knew no more.

* * *

"... _Sir?! Can you hear me?_ " A voice cried, and DT-227 wondered why it wouldn't leave him alone. He had a raging headache and what felt like a detonator-sized lump on the back of his head.

" _Please, wake up!_ "

" _Girl, leave him! He's probably in a coma, no use to us!_ " DT-227 wanted to agree with the voice and go back into his peaceful and pain-free slumber, but another voice joined them.

One that was in his head.

 _ **Rise, the mission isn't over, yet.**_

It was Tarkin's voice once again, compelling DT-227 to open his eyes. His HUD was still on, several warnings about his health popping up. Past that all was the tear-stained face of the girl they had just saved, her delicate hands shaking his shoulders. Naturally, her machinations did little to move him but seemed to appease her.

"Status?" He asked, eliciting a gasp from the girl and a swear from the officer, somewhere to his left.

"You're still alive?!" The officer demanded from wherever he was.

"Barely optimal, but yes, I am alive," The trooper sat up, forcing the girl to stumble back and sit next to him.

"A lot more hardy than your team, then," The officer muttered. DT-227 turned, spotting the man still at the console he had been sitting at prior to their unintended jump.

"What is their status?"

"Dead, their bones were shattered when they were thrown against the ramp," He pointed out the now open ramp, at the bodies littering the bottom. Their armor had crushed and crumpled, if the men had survived the initial hit, then they likely wouldn't have survived the armor collapsing in on them.

"Status of the ship?" Not a hint of sadness or pity rose in DT-227's heart as he turned to face the officer.

"Totalled, only the comms survived."

"The pilots?"

"Dead, the entire cockpit was crushed."

"What is the status of the comms relay?" The officer let out an irritated sigh, rubbing the sides of his face.

"They're working, but there isn't a connection. Not Imperial, not civilian, hell, not even rebel."

"Have you checked the array?"

"Yes, completely intact, it's as if we exit the entire bloody comm zone. The Imperial comm zone reaches out over 3,000 lightyears, and smuggler line go out even further to do some of their business." The officer groaned, staring balefully at the console before him.

"Are we on a friendly planet?" Asked DT-227, a new order appeared in his mind.

"No, what is this, twenty questions? We are lost in space!" DT-227 slowly rose to his feet before wincing, the pain in his back forcing him to a knee.

"Mister, you aren't-" The girl started, but was silenced by the Deathtrooper grabbing a blaster pistol that had fallen at his feet. Her face paled instantly, but this was either not seen or ignored by the Deathtrooper. He prowled up to the officer, blaster hanging at his side.

"We are without support, communications, or any clear sign of assistance?" Asked DT-227 with some finality.

"No, I just fucking told you, trooper! What is with all these questions-" The man spun in his seat and recoiled, finding a blaster shoved in his face.

 _ **Directive 31; Should a Deathtrooper or a Deathtrooper squadron find themselves lost in unknown or hostile territory with no clear or easily accessible help or escape route, then they are to execute any and all Imperial personnel among them that are incapable of keeping pace with the Deathtrooper(s) to ensure Imperial information and supplies do not fall into the hands of the hostile force.**_

 _ **They are to destroy the transport they arrived in and vacate the area immediately.**_

The officer didn't even have time to yell. DT-227 pulled the trigger, his black armor briefly illuminated by a flash of red. He lowered the gun, watching the officer's body slump forwards and fall from his seat.

DT-227 then turned to the girl, the horrified realization that she was next spilling into the girl's face and eyes. She tried to scramble back, tears starting anew. DT-227 briskly walked up to her, staring down at the girl. He raised the pistol, aiming it directly at her head.

His finger looped around the trigger, silence falling as she seemed to be too shocked and terrified to make a sound. The only noise now was his slow, methodic breathing.

His directive was clear, kill any and all Imperial personnel that would be incapable of keeping pace with him, and yet…

He hand started shaking as he tried to force himself to pull the trigger, but no matter how much he tried to, nothing happened.

 _ **Follow your orders through, trooper. She cannot fall into enemy hands.**_

Came Tarkin's voice, compelling him further. DT-227's breathing picked up, grabbing his hand with the other and trying, with all his might, to fire. Nothing, he couldn't do it.

 _ **Now, trooper!**_

Damn-it-all, he tried, but he couldn't bring himself to fire. Both his hands were shaking, but he couldn't bring himself to execute her.

 _ **NOW, TROOPER!**_

He started panting, the mental strain growing too be unbearable. His hands shook so much now that he could barely even keep the blaster lined up with her head.

Finally, he broke, dropping the gun and falling on his knees. He started coughing, something wet and warm coming and splattering the inside of his mouth.

"W-what-" The girl started, clearly still confused as well as terrified.

"Out!" DT-227 snapped, pointing outside of the ship, into whatever forest they seemed to have landed in. She obliged without question, scrambling out and down the ramp, out of his sight.

He ripped his helmet off, coughing again. Unsurprisingly, the liquid was blood. More splattered onto the floor, his vision becoming blurred as the same voice of the Grand Moff screamed in his head.

He banged his forehead on the floor, the pain alleviating that which was ailing him so. It lasted for only a moment before the raging headache returned full-force. It was paralyzing, he couldn't think straight.

A sharp pain erupted in his head, compelling him to vomit up the ration bars he had eaten a few hours earlier.

The voices finally fell silent, leaving him in the blissful sounds of the forest outside… and _her_ sobbing near the bottom of the ramp.

In spite of it all, in spite of her clear fear, and his roaring pain, DT-227 laughed. The screaming, the worst of the pain, it was gone…

He felt… free? Whatever it was, it felt amazing.

Shakily, he forced himself to his feet, noticing that her cries were silenced by his insane laughter. DT-227 pulled his helmet back on, stumbling towards the ramp. Unsurprisingly, he left the blaster behind him.

The girl was seated at the bottom of the ramp, her legs pulled up to her chest as she seemed to await his next actions. The trooper, gripping his burning stomach, stumbled down the ramp. His plastic boots, which made quite a lot of noise, drew her attention and reignited her shaking. He came to rest next to her before collapsing backward, laying on the ramp.

Silence reigned between the two of them for a few moments as DT-227 fought to reign in the wave of emotions crashing about in his mind like a raging ocean.

"I'm sorry," He spoke, finally. She nodded in response, not looking at him.

* * *

An hour later, and a couple bacta injections, DT-227 was back on his feet and fulfilling _part_ of his directive. The bodies of the other Deathtroopers were loaded onto the shuttle. He quickly placed the commander's blaster rifle on his back, one of the modified standard issue blaster rifles that survived the crash, and a pistol on his person. These were joined by several grenades and stunners on his now many bandoliers.

Two duffle bags held all the medical supplies, food, and miscellaneous supplies he could find. Loaded up, he primed the shuttle to detonate in five minutes.

DT-227 rose and walked down to the ramp, where the girl was waiting. She looked up at him as he walked down, bearing the load of half an Imperial company. He stopped at the foot, both staring at the other. While she couldn't see his eyes. DT-227 felt as if she were reading him. A few moments passed before he jerked his head left, in the direction where the forest seemed thinnest.

She looked in the direction he nodded in before looking back up at his helmet. A small nod and she ran over to his side. They began walking, not a word shared between them as they went.

He, the towering Deathtrooper, loaded up with enough equipment to destroy a battle station and the skill to know how to, and her, a girl, though perhaps young woman would be fairer, who should have been enjoying what remained of her childhood instead of being dragged into the chess game that was politics and adulthood.

What an unlikely duo, but their adventure was only just beginning. For, while it may have been an accident that brought them here, fate was rewritten by their very presence.


	2. Chapter 2

**Deathtrooper**

 **Chapter 2**

 **Travelers**

* * *

High above, thunder cracked threateningly, joining a jagged bolt of lightning in their symphony of noise and light, briefly illuminating the dark lands below.

In one forest, hiding from the storm above, DT-227 stared up. As much as he yearned to keep moving, sitting still meant discovery and he didn't know if he could protect the Governess, she lacked the ability to keep up to his pace. Not only was he trained for long-distance travel, even weighed down as he was, but he was physically augmented to be stronger than an average man. She was not so built for this kind of traveling, always having been well cared for. DT-227 had to admit, however, she was stalwart. She refused to admit how exhausted she was after a day's worth of walking, but when the rainstorm rolled around DT-227 have her a chance to rest. He, naturally, justified it as 'protecting the equipment and explosives from water'.

He sighed, leaning against one of the trees and holding his helmet in his hands. Neither had said more than three words to the other, which was justified, he supposed. He did attempt to execute her-

The thought caused the familiar headache to return, a problem he had come to recognize since leaving the downed, now destroyed, shuttle. Whatever was trying to force him to execute the girl, and did make him execute the officer, was apparently still trying to control him. What was it, his conditioning? Or, perhaps, a part of his augmentation? Sadly, it wasn't something he could check himself. First, he was no neurosurgeon, second, he needed to be awake… Near constantly to protect the Governess. It would be easy the first four or so days, be even he had to sleep eventually. And then what? Who would protect her while he slept?

The problem would be addressed when it came, he supposed, for now, he let her sleep.

DT-227 turned, spotting her beneath a tent he had quickly set up for her. Sleeping, she looked so innocent, like someone who hadn't been dragged into a hostage situation, beaten if the bruises were anything to go by, and nearly killed in a violent crash before nearly being executed by the man who was supposed to protect her.

She was, maybe, 16 at best, DT-227 was never a good judge on age and they never spoke long enough for him to know. Her hair, a dusty blond, was long and splayed out loosely along the cloth ground of the tent, freed now from its loose bun.

Knowing what her father looked like, a portly, unattractive man, he wondered where _her_ genetics came from.

DT-227 sighed and shook his head, turning and looking out into the forest again with his arms crossed. The few animals he had seen had been, rightfully so, terrified of him. Unsurprisingly, an extremely tall human in full black armor struck terror into a lot of hearts, even those of animals.

Another especially loud thunderclap erupted above, actually sending some reverberations down DT-227's spine. He scowled up at the storm, cutting off his brooding and certainly making it more difficult to keep an ear-

 _Ping!_

The high sound came from his helmet, meaning one of his sensors picked up movement. He pulled the helmet back on quickly, twisting it and sealing the vacuum. With a hiss, it closed. The HUD came online the moment the seal closed, showing him a laundry list of information, the most pressing the sensor. DT-227 knelt down, grabbing his blaster rifle from its position leaning against the tree and walked in the direction the alarm came from.

It was, maybe fifteen meters away, meaning anything big was well within eyesight. Whatever tripped the alarm had to be small, or stealthy, either way it wouldn't hurt to check. After all, even something small could serve as a danger to… Well, the Governess. DT-227 was more than confident in his abilities to handle some rodent.

He came to the sensor, a small black object that looked somewhat like a rock. Sure enough, next to it were small footprints…

 _Humanoid footprints_.

DT-227 knelt down and touched the tracks. They were the size of a small man's feet, at best, though the body connected was not very heavy given the indentations. He retracted his hand and peered out into the growing darkness. Naturally, nothing dared move, but it only strengthened his belief that he needed to stay awake until they reached proper cover.

He retreated back to the camp, blaster still tightly gripped in his gloved hands. The camp was untouched, and the Governess still sleeping. The rain had, thankfully, stopped, meaning the only sounds he could hear was the wind whistling through the trees and the soft, rhythmic breathing of the Governess.

She slept for another two hours before she awoke.

"Rest, it's dangerous to move around at night in unfamiliar territory," DT-227 said in the form of greeting, peering out into the forest with the night vision feature on his helmet. He heard her moan as she stretched before she, surprisingly, spoke.

"Did you sleep?" Her voice was soft and tentative, clearly still cautious around him. Once again, justified. He simply shook his head in response, still not looking over. She responded with an 'hmm' before yawning and, likely, laying back down.

"You should, it isn't healthy to stay awake too long," She said, earning a glance from DT-227. She had rolled to face the other end of the tent. He shook his head, turning his attention back to the forest, blaster resting in his hands.

* * *

They set out early in the morning, 'enjoying' a ration bar each and a swig of the caf mix he had, combined with water he purified from a nearby stream. He gathered his bags, hitting a button on his wrist and collapsing the tent down to pocket size. He picked it up and returned it to one of the pouches on his many bandoliers.

With a nod to the Governess, they stepped back to the beaten, dirt path. Like the day prior, neither spoke, merely walking quietly. However, unlike yesterday, the Governess was not merely keeping her eyes locked forwards and walking, she was staring out at the field to their left. There was wonder and childish amazement on her face, almost as if she were a regular child. Then again, for someone who had spent her entire life on a city planet, this entire ordeal was a stark change. DT-227 wished he had her naivety, for when he saw the field all he saw were positions for ambushes or landmines. It seemed even without the voice of Tarkin barking orders in his head, he still thought only like a well-weathered machine of war.

They continued walking, the girl humming absently to herself as she looked off to the horizon, smiling slightly. It warmed DT-227's heart, another unfamiliar feeling. She looked so… Lost the yesterday, it was a nice change. Luckily, his helmet allowed him to hide his smile, it would do to have a Deathtrooper showing _human_ emotion…

They stopped at a bridge passing over a creek to refill their canteens and flasks before each having a ration bar. DT-227 was kneeling at the creek, the Governess sitting next to him. Both, still not speaking, quietly got their water. A loud crack, however, drew DT-227's attention. He twisted, blaster raising and aiming into the woods a few meters away, just off the shoulder of the path. The Governess tried to peek around his bulky form, but his right arm pushed her back behind him. Ensuring she would stay, he looped his finger back around the trigger of his blaster. The scope, connected to his HUD, zoomed in on the position of the forest where he was sure the sound came from. A few pregnant seconds passed before it showed itself.

A deer poked its head out from the trees, staring at DT-227 as the Deathtrooper sighed in equal parts relief and annoyance. He lowered the blaster with a scowl, waving a hand at it.

"Shoo!" He barked at it, but the deer just stared at him. He nearly jumped when the girl let out a sound behind him. For the first time since they had met, he heard her giggle, _giggle_. He turned and looked at her, finding her face filled with mirth and amusement. He snorted, a sound that seemed to catch _her_ off-guard. They were saved from any awkwardness as the deer darted away, causing several more cracks and shuffles of wood. DT-227, his pure instincts kicking in, raised his blaster and aimed at the place the deer had been moments before. This elicited actual laughter from the girl, a musical, tinkling sound that really warmed his heart. His chuckled, rising to his feet and slinging the blaster over his back, next to his former commander's rifle.

"Funny. Come on, I want to find a good place to set up camp before nightfall," DT-227 said, placing his flask on his hip and turning to the girl. She seemed to remember the situation, based on the slightly worried glint in her eye, but a sharp nod meant she was ready to move. The took off, in higher spirits and newfound energy. Who knew walking around, moping and depressed all day really took a drag on one's energy?

* * *

It was near sunset when DT-227 led the girl up to a barn sitting a little ways from a house, likely where the owner lived. They didn't find a very good place to set up a tent, and a barn would be leagues easier to defend than some clearing in a forest. He took out a lantern from one of his pouches, activating it and casting the interior in a faint light. Inside, cattle looked up at the sudden intrusion before returning to their drinking or sleeping.

He studied the barn for a second before reaching into another pouch and redrawing the sleeping bag the Governess had used the day before. He tossed it down, pressing a button on his wrist that caused it to unfold. He turned to the girl in question, nodding his head towards the sleeping bag. She studied the bag for a second before turning back to him, a questioning look in her eyes. A wry smile formed on his face, assuming what her unasked question was.

He simply shook his head and jerked a thumb up at the catwalk above, where the windows were located. She looked up at them and narrowing her eyes for a second before shrugging and shuffling off to the sleeping bag, her exhaustion catching up with her. DT-227 shook his head, fighting down another smiling and climbing up the ladder that led to the catwalk.

He sat himself in so that he could sit in the window, blaster laying over his lap and offering him the best view over the entrance. It was a bright night, the moon being full above and casting the field in perfect light. He pushed a button on his wrist, activating the sensor relays he had set up while checking the place out. They were set up with enough distance between them that just the edge of their range overlapped with another, ensuring there were no blind spots in his defenses.

Sure that any problem would be spotted by his array, DT-227 removed his helmet. It hissed as the seal was broken, releasing a day's worth of sweat. The curse of the Deathtrooper armor, designed to survive gases so that meant no vents to release or cycle air. He placed the helmet at his side and continued his silent vigil.

He sat there for several hours, his only company being his own mind. He was cut off from his thoughts, however, by a blood-curdling scream. He tensed, looking out at the farmhouse, spotting movement inside that looked like a struggle. Briefly, he debated going and investigating, but that thought was quickly dismissed as he remembered the tracks from the day before, they were likely being followed. What if this was the same group? He couldn't leave the Governess alone and-

Another scream echoed into the night, more terrifying than the first. DT-227 flinched, his resolution cracking as the sound wrenched at his heart. When did he become such a bleeding heart?! Making up his mind, DT-227 pulled his helmet back on and dropped to the ground. The force of the impact shook the nearby ground and elicited a cry from the Governess. He eyed her for a moment before pointing at the sleeping bag.

"Stay," He ordered, and before she could a word in edgewise, he took off out of the barn. The blaster in his hands came to life with a familiar and ever so enticing hum. Putting in his full strength, he cleared the field in a moment, and perhaps a moment too late.

A closed door blocked his way to the interior of the house, but something like that wouldn't have a chance in hell at slowing the Deathtrooper down. He lowered his shoulder and, like a player in Nuna-ball, rammed through the door. He quickly found his footing as the door was, quite literally, ripped from its hinges. As it clattered to the ground, DT-227 was greeted by a horrifying scene.

There were three people, a girl a little younger than the Governess, an older, portly man who was likely her father, and a woman, likely the mother.

The first two were pressed to a corner, the father blocking his daughter from two of the assailants. He held a shortsword, a bizarre weapon to be using in the current age given the blasters have such superior range, and was brandishing it at the two attackers. The attackers in question were short, maybe the size of a small child with disproportionate heads and feet. They were a deep green with long, hooked noses protruding from some of the ugliest faces DT-227 had ever seen. The duo attacking the father and daughter wore nothing more than loin clothes, armed with rugged looking spears and jagged, rusted knives.

Unlike those 'dealing' with the mother, they were at least dressed. The other three had the mother pinned to the ground, her screams and pleading only seeming to act as an aphrodisiac to the trio. They were tearing at her clothes, one positioning itself between her exposed legs-

The sound of the door slamming to the ground silenced all, dragging their attention to DT-227. Fear appeared in the faces of all, naturally, as a titan-like figure in all black armor, save the glowing green lights on the helmet, would be absolutely terrifying.

DT-227 skipped any clever quip or demanding they stop, creatures like this didn't deserve an ounce of mercy. He started on the one between the legs of the mother. He grabbed the back of the beast's neck and, with an unnecessary amount of strength, hurled it into the wall. The crunch of its bones made upon meeting the wall was like music to his ears. He didn't stop there, however, lashing out with one armored leg. It met the back of one of the other creatures holding the mother down, sending it flying into its partner in crime. Both bounced, unfortunately surviving. One of the other creatures, armed with a spear, shouted in a shrill voice and leaped at DT-227, driving the spear forwards. The Deathtrooper didn't make a move to stop it, watching in amusement as the weapon just shattered against his chestplate. He wasn't so arrogant to admit the little beast had a lot of strength for something its size, but it certainly wasn't enough to put down a Deathtrooper. The beast seemed to notice this as well, a moment too late. He caught it by its scrawny neck, squeezing it in one hand as he held it several feet of the ground. DT-227, as he choked the life from the little beast, raised his blaster in his off hand. A pull of the trigger dropped the other armed beast. It crumpled to the ground to the surprise and relief of the father and daughter. DT-227 tightened his fist, crushing the throat of the beast he was holding. As it died, he dropped it on the floor and faced the last two, who had managed to untangle themselves. They looked up, fear lacing their faces as this… _Demon_ approached. They tried to beg for mercy, but there would be none had. DT-227 lashed out with a foot, his boot crushing in the face of the nearer of the two goblins. The other cried out, trying the dart past him in his moment of distraction. Sadly for it, there wasn't a chance. DT-227 leaned down, grabbed the back of its head and, using its momentum, spun and slammed its skull into the stone wall of the house. Its death was instant, and silence reigned save DT-227 panting.

After a few moments, he dropped the creature that he had just crushed against the wall. Its blood and brain pieces dripped from his hand, though it was nothing a bit of water couldn't fix. He turned and faced the family, finding them gathered next to the wife and helping her as they all cried freely, a mix of terror and joy at surviving.

"Sorry about the door," DT-227 spoke gruffly, slinging his blaster on his back.

"Thank you, thank you…" Sobbed the father as he held his daughter and wife close, clearly expecting to have died in that fight. He watched the scene, not moving or responding as they comforted one another. Feeling out of place, he made for the door… way. The cracked voice of the father stopped him, however.

"Please, please…" The man's desperation pulled at his heartstrings, "Do you need somewhere to stay, food? Please, stay the night, please," He pleaded, falling to his knees and grabbing the front of DT-227's chestplate. The Deathtrooper glanced up at the rest of the family, finding them looking up at him with the shared fear and pleading.

"I…" He wanted to, but the Governess was his priority, he wouldn't move her if she didn't want to-

 _Ping!_

The alarm for his sensors set up around the barn made a pleasant little sound in his helmet that made his heart sink.

"Oh no," He gasped, he had left the Governess alone, _defenseless_. Without a word to the family, he dropped into a dead spring towards the barn, his blaster swinging on his back. Deathtroopers were fast, far more so than would be expected of someone their size and build, not to mention the armor they wore which would slow down most anyone. Deathtroopers were not, however, hindered by their armor. They were as agile with as they were without, but that wasn't enough for DT-227. What had felt like three seconds coming to the farmhouse felt like half an hour as he sprinted for the barn.

As he moved, gunning his arms like a track runner, he heard the Governess's scream inside the barn. Somehow, he found another burst of energy, dashing past the sensors. Their pleasant sound was lost on him as he reached the barn. The door was cracked open slightly, enough for a small creature to slip in.

He rammed through the door, hoping for the best but expecting the worst. There were only two beings in the barn, the Governess and one of _them_. The creature was on top of her, cackling gleefully as it attempted to tear at her clothing. The Governess was screaming, begging for it to stop, but the creature either couldn't understand her or, worse, was amused and pushed on by her pleading.

The fury DT-227 felt pushed him into a run, the creature not once noticing the Deathtrooper behind it. Just before DT-227 reached them, he heard the fabric of the Governess's clothing tearing, fueling him with another bout of rage. He grabbed the back of the creatures next, twisting and throwing it back towards the door. It didn't get far, however, as DT-227's hand shot for his sidearm. It was out in the blink of an eye, three bolts sent down range, each one finding their mark somewhere on the body of the creature. It fell to the ground, dead.

DT-227 twisted, his fury melting away to sadness and failure as he watched the Governess curl-up into a ball, holding her tattered clothing together to protect her decency. She was sobbing quietly, shaking violently. DT-227 reached into one of his pouches, pulling out a folded up heated blanket. The press of a button on his wrist caused it to unfold back to its full size. He then wrapped it around her, having to slide one hand along her side to get it under her. This caused her to flinch, which only furthered the disappointment and failure the Deathtrooper felt. What had happened to him? He should have been here to protect her, since when did Deathtroopers feel pity, or the pressure to do what was right?

In spite of these thoughts, he remained kneeling at her side.

"It's okay," He whispered, his voice coming out a little robotic from under his helmet, "It's gone now, you're safe." This did little to stop her sobbing, nor her shaking. DT-227 had no idea how to deal with this, his expertise was in combat, not in emotional counseling.

Looking at the girl, who had seemed so innocent and carefree a few short hours before being reduced to this terrified state, he unconsciously vowed to kill anything that dared touch her. On his honor as a Deathtrooper, or perhaps the newfound compassion he had found since arriving on this planet, whatever it was he would make those who dared think of bringing harm upon her feel terror and regret before he killed them.

A soft voice came from behind the trooper, dragging him back into the present.

"Is… Is she okay?" He turned, eyeing the father and mother, the latter of whom had changed her clothing. They both flinched at his stare but didn't move back or leave. DT-227 sighed, looking back at the Governess.

"One got to her, but it didn't do much before I… _Dealt_ with it." His voice sounded… Inhuman, emotionless. He didn't hear either of them moving, so assumed they were either scared stiff or had left. he, briefly, debated what to do next before footsteps brought him out of his thoughts.

The mother knelt at his side as the father came to stop a few paces behind him.

"Please, stay in our home tonight. I can fix her clothing in the morning," Pleaded the mother, her bright blue eyes looking up imploringly into his emotionless helmet. It was a good idea, all things considered, he doubted this foe would strike again tonight and there was a strength in numbers. He was good, but they were unprepared for his arrival so they may be more skilled when they have the advantage of stealth.

"Very well," DT-227 spoke, looking back down to the Governess. Her eyes were closed as she shook with hiccups and quiet sobs. He reached a hand forwards, grabbing her shoulder with one gloved hand. She flinched, causing him to immediately pull back in fear of harming her or causing any more discomfort.

"I'll help her," The mother said, putting a hand on his armored shoulder, looking confused briefly at how it felt. DT-227 merely nodded, rising to his feet and stepping away to give the woman room to console the Governess.

"Come, I'll show you where you… Two will stay, I guess," Said the father. DT-227 have another brisk nod, hitting a button on his wrist. The sleeping bag, which lay forgotten a meter or so from the Governess, folded itself up. He walked past the mother and shaking Governess, reaching down and stuffing the now folded slipping back into its pouch on his bandolier.

After closing the pouch, he walked over to the two duffle bags he had left in the shadow of a pile of hay.

"Do you need any…?" Began the father when he spotted the duffle bags, but fell silent as DT-227 lifted them both with little effort. Instead, the father silently led the Deathtrooper out from his barn towards his home, all while keeping an eye out. The sound of the sensors going off reminded DT-227 that they were still there. After promptly collecting them, he jogged to catch up with the father.

They entered the home through the still shattered doorway, a spike of embarrassment spiking through the Deathtrooper.

"My apologies about the door-" He started, but was silenced by a wave of the father's hand.

"The door is worth less than our lives, you saved us, Sir…" The father turned and looked at DT-227 for a second before speaking again, "Knight?" When DT-227 didn't respond, the man gave a brisk nod, walking into the kitchen of the home.

"Here, there is only one bed, but I think one of you can sleep-"

"It will be fine, I don't intend to sleep tonight as is," DT-227 cut him off, putting up a hand.

Well, he tried too, but he was still carrying the duffle bags. He stepped in as the father seemed to contemplate things.

He set them off in one corner, looking about the room. It was small, with a bed on one side, a walk-in closet and a wooden floor. The window had its curtains closed, though the window was open if the light breeze was anything to go by. Wordlessly, the Deathtrooper leaned over the bed and pulled it shut, ensuring the latch was secure.

Sure that it would stay, he unslung his main blaster from his shoulder and deposited it into one of the duffle bags, withdrawing his former commander's heavy blaster rifle. It hissed as he activated it, coming to life.

DT-227 turned, finding the father still standing in the doorway. The man seemed to have dozens of questions but instead opted to nod and walk back out into the kitchen. The mother and daughter were gathered next to the Governess, whose eyes were still puffy and still had her face smeared with tear streaks, but looked a sum better. DT-227 walked past them to the father, who was removing the damaged hinges to the door.

"I'll be stationed outside," He told the man when he reached him. The father grunted in response, lifting the door now to see if the new hinges fit. DT-227 moved to help the man, it was after all his fault the man's door was destroyed, but he paused at the soft voice of the Governess behind him.

"P-please," He turned, finding her looking imploringly up at him, "Can you stay in the room? I… I don't want to be alone?" His heart broke a little at her voice. He turned to the father, who had a wry smirk as he fit the door into the frame.

"She's your ward, Sir Knight, I can keep an eye out tonight, rest." DT-227 debated, for a moment, arguing the point, but just gave a brisk nod. He had no intention of sleeping tonight, at least this way he could better watch over the Governess.

Relief flooded her face before she was spirited away to one of the other rooms, likely to be changed into other clothing. With another nod to the father, DT-227 went into the room he would now be sharing with the Governess.

Finding an empty patch next to the wall, he sat down. Crossing his legs and folding his arms, DT-227 rested his head on the wall behind him, staring up at the ceiling and awaiting the arrival of the Governess.

A few minutes passed until she returned, adorned in a loose-fitting robe. She had hints of a blush on her cheeks, her eyes briefly flashing over to DT-227 before she walked over to the bed, clearly embarrassed by something. DT-227 didn't ask, it wasn't his business and he didn't want to make things worse.

She made it about halfway to the bed before stopping and looking over at him again. She seemed to have a sort of internal debate, shuffling her feet for a second before she walked over to DT-227. She stood next to him, hesitating before she crouched down. She waved a hand in front of his helmet, earning a slight smile from the Deathtrooper.

"I'm awake," He said, suddenly, making her jump and let out a slight cry. He coughed, hiding his laughter, as she scowled at him.

"That's not very nice, and you shouldn't be awake," She admonished him before rising and storming off back to her bed. As she pulled the covers up and climbed under them, she continued talking.

"Even 'Sir Knights' need to sleep," She said, facing away from him. Not that he needed to see her to hear the amusement in her voice.

"The less they know about us, the better. Directive 13," But he paused, drawing a blank of what 'Directive 13' truly stated. He _knew_ it was something along the lines of: 'not being discovered by foes that don't know who they are' or something, but he was usually able to repeat the exact wording.

His headache returned briefly, though it was more a dull pain than anything else. How could he forget the directive? Was thirteen even the right one, or was it 4…?

Once again, something likely happened aboard the shuttle that messed with his head, but there was no way he could effectively figure out what the problem was without a neurosurgeon…

With a shrug, he glanced over at the Governess. She was still facing away, her breathing significantly slower. She was fast asleep.

He cracked a slight smirk and leaned back, setting his rifle off to one side. Hopefully, there wouldn't be any other disturbances.

He didn't have time to set up sensors, but it wasn't like he was going to fall asleep...

* * *

"Sir Knight? Are you hungry?" DT-227's eyes snapped open, and before he could stop himself, he attacked. His left hand found its way to the lapel of whoever it was in front of him, holding them in place as his other hand went for the blaster on his hip.

He realized in time that the man he was currently about to kill was the father that had so kindly allowed them to sleep in his home the night prior.

His face paled quickly as DT-227 held him, his hands wrapping around the Deathtrooper's gauntlet in a vain attempt to make him loosen his grip. DT-227 let the man go, his arm falling to his side as he tried to force his heart to calm.

"My apologies I… Didn't expect to fall asleep so soundly," DT-227 apologized to the man, glancing to his right to see the Governess was already gone, likely in the other room.

"I-It's alright, Sir Knight," The father got out, trying to control his own panicked breathing as he scrambled to his feet, "I was merely wondering if you were hungry?"

DT-227 was about to refuse when his stomach gave a treasonous rumble, earning a slight smile from the father.

"I guess I could use something to eat," Agreed DT-227, no need to waste ration bars when there was perfectly good food available to him. The father smiled and left, leaving DT-227 to get himself up and stretch. Naturally, sleeping in Deathtrooper armor did not make for a very happy body, every muscle and joint groaned in protest as he moved. The armor, usually a godsend in battles, jabbed and pinched his already complaining body.

He did some stretches best he could in the armor, not wanting to go through the pain of stripping down. The armor was a pain to take on and off, the main reason why Deathtroopers basically lived in it.

Feeling a little more content, he walked out, greeted by the family and Governess enjoying breakfast. The smells, despite the filter built into DT-227's helmet, reached him and caused his empty stomach to rumble furiously.

Whether if it was the sound of his stomach or the fact that he stood out in a small farmhouse, the wife and daughter turned to look at him. The dazzling smiles on their faces as they greeted him confused the Deathtrooper, as normally when people saw his lot they were terrified. Maybe it was the aftereffect of his saving them?

"Good morning, Sir Knight!" They greeted, to which he grunted and nodded. He wasn't much one for pleasantries, it was never something Deathtroopers exchanged. Hell, he was generally bad with _people,_ if his interactions with the Governess were anything to go by.

If they were put out by his lack of reaction, they didn't show it. They still chatted amiably as if they weren't attacked the night prior. Speaking of damages, DT-227 chanced a glance at the door that he had barged through. It looked as if nothing had happened to it, save a few splinters where one of the hinges was ripped off.

"Would you like to sit, Sir Knight?" Asked the mother, dragging DT-227's mind back to the present. They had all stopped talking and were staring up at him silently. It was then that he realized he looked as if he were just staring down at them.

"No, I'm fine," He responded, putting up a hand.

"Nonsense, here," The father scooted aside at the table, the women were all seated opposite the father. Once again, DT-227 was about to argue the point when his stomach, far more audibly, grumbled. This elicited a few chuckles as the Deathtrooper took the seat.

The mother didn't waste a moment, placing a plate before him that was loaded with meats, eggs, and bread. The smells, so alluring, actually made DT-227 start salivating. Had it been so long since he had eaten an actually good meal? Yes, yes it had.

All those at the table watched with rapt attention as DT-227 grabbed his helmet, twisting it to one side. The familiar hiss of the seal breaking came, allowing him to pull the helmet from his head.

He breathed in fresh, in filtered air with a gasp, thankful for a cool, summer day. It was then that he noticed all eyes were glued on him, shock on many of their faces.

"Sorry?" He asked, feeling his face with one hand to see if there were any wounds. The mother shook her head as if to clear it before offering him a kind smile.

"Pardon, I wasn't expecting you to be so… Young." DT-227 tried to do the math in his head, after all, age was never an issue or topic among Deathtroopers. They weren't individuals, but instead the many arms of Imperial Intelligence. If he were a betting man, he would wager that he was in his early twenties at least.

"Hmm," Offered the Deathtrooper noncommittally, instead opting to dig into the food he was offered with newfound vigor. For a few moments, silence reigned until the mother spoke again.

"Where are my manners? I am 'Sheep Woman'," She started, indicating to herself. DT-227 choked, whatever he was expecting it wasn't _that_. She seemed a little put off by his reaction, though it was, thankfully, for a different reason, "Is there something wrong with the food, Sir Knight?" She sounded genuinely worried.

"No, no," He said, taking the offered handkerchief from the father and coughing again, "I just ate a little fast." 'Sheep Woman', who names their child that, look relieved while the father picked up from there.

"I am 'Farmer', and this is our daughter: 'Farmer's Daughter'," The father explained, indicating towards the beaming girl. DT-227 took a moment to clear his throat, thinking on how to respond. A glance at the Governess told him that she was as confused as he was.

"A pleasure… But… Those sound like job titles more than names," DT-227, with all the tact of a raging bull, said. They all looked at him, confused for a couple of seconds before the mother came to a realization.

"Oh, you two aren't from around here, are you?" She asked, looking slightly embarrassed.

"No, we recently… Arrived." DT-227 confirmed, wondering why this was such a shock. Just looking at him would tell anyone that he stood out.

"Oh, my apologies, sweetie! I had thought… I didn't know it wasn't the same where you came from!" The mother apologized to the now fiercely blushing Governess, who was mumbling something quietly to her plate. DT-227 looked from one to the other, still confused.

"What?" He asked, clearly confused. The mother decided to grace him with an answer.

"Sorry, women tend to sleep nude here in this country," DT-227 raised an eyebrow, looking over at the Governess who seemed to be making a solid try at vanishing on the spot all while avoiding his eye. That explained her embarrassment from the night before.

"Huh… So, the names…?"

"Names are a private thing around here, son. _Very_ private, rarely do you tell anyone outside your family or loved ones around these parts. Some even take it as a proposal," The father explained for DT-227.

"Ah, my apologies for prying, then."

"No problem, son," The father dismissed his apology with the wave of his hand. DT-227 quickly swallowed back the glass of an unknown juice to clear his mouth before offering his name, or more accurately his title.

"Then it's only fair I tell you my… err, title. Deathtrooper," He said, earning shocked glances from the others. Then again, it seemed to click for them after a few moments, his armor certainly screamed 'reaper'.

"D-Deathtrooper?" Repeated the mother, as if she were starting to regret happily bringing someone with such a name into her home.

"It's a job title, though not a very good one," He joked dryly, earning a hearty laugh from the father.

"That is is, son, that it is," The man said, slapping DT-227's back. The trooper fought back the flinch that followed, willing his right hand to not dart for his blaster as he did so.

"I'm… Governess," Said the Governess, and if the others were surprised by his name, they were floored by hers.

"Governess?!" Repeated the mother with a slightly higher pitched voice. The others looked slightly worried, likely because 'Governess' was a rather aristocratic title.

"I-I'm sorry, had I known we had someone of high standing-" The mother began apologizing, eyeing DT-227 with terror. The trooper merely regarded the exchange with a slight amount of dark amusement.

"It's okay, ma'am. We're trying to be incognito. Deathtrooper is my bodyguard," The Governess happily said, indicating towards DT-227. Yes, because loudly announcing yourself to be a 'Governess' and insinuating the tall, frightening man was your guard was a good way to go unnoticed.

"Ah, from where is it that you hail, then?" Asked the father, but before the Governess could respond:

"Classified," Said DT-227 as he finished his food, a finality clear in his voice. The Governess looked a little put out at being talked over, but DT-227 didn't need her saying more than absolutely necessary.

 _These people had no idea who they, the Governess and him, were. They didn't even recognize his armor as Imperial. It may have been a stretch from the standard white of Stormtroopers, but it was pretty obvious. Just how far were they from Imperial space?_

"Understandable," The father nodded slowly, watching as DT-227 put his helmet back on. With a twist, the familiar hiss returned. The seal reconnected, replacing the nice, summer air with the cold, metallic air coming from the filters.

"How long until her clothing is repaired?" He asked, his voice coming mechanical and far less welcoming as they seemed to think it was without the helmet.

"A few hours, at least," The mother responded, looking a little uncomfortable staring into the emotionless face of DT-227's helmet.

"Very well, I'll check outside for any more signs of those…" He quickly came to realize he had no idea what those little monsters were called.

"Goblins," Supplies the father, to which DT-227 nodded his thanks. The man walked back to the room he and Governess shared, grabbing his former commander's heavy blaster. Activating it, he walked back out into the kitchen and left through the front door, all while the others quietly enjoyed their breakfast.

He came to rest at the edge of the house's porch, his visor instantly darkening to account for the sun high above. It was late in the morning, meaning he actually had a decent night's sleep. He shook his head, disappointed in his failure to remain awake and vigilant, DT-227 walked towards the fence that blocked the farmland from the road.

Nearby was what looked like a bonfire, the charred corpses of the dead Goblins from the night before lying atop one another. Evidently, the father cleaned up after his mess. DT-227 checked along the fence, his HUD giving an estimate on how long the tracks had been there. They were all several hours old and only headed towards the farmhouse. Evidently, no others showed up after the fight… _Yet._

He rose, making his way along the perimeter of the fence for a way. The tracks eventually came to an end, but DT-227 didn't stop there. One didn't survive long as a Deathtrooper by being incompetent.

He moved in a circle around the house, blaster hanging loosely in his arms. Nothing else stood out, save the footprints leading to the barn from the goblin that had assaulted the Governess. They reignited the feeling of failure he felt, his failure to his one job. The Deathtrooper shook his head and continued his patrol around. Each time he reached the fence, he moved out another meter and did it again, looking for any signs of these goblins.

He was finally stopped after an hour by the arrival of the father, who jogged over carrying a flask of liquid.

"I assumed you were thirsty," The man explained, holding out the flask. DT-227 accepted it with a nod, pushing a button on his helmet. An opening appeared around where his mouth was, allowing the trooper to slip the opening of the flask in and take a long drink. After a moment, he removed it, gasping in a deep, unfiltered breath before closing his helmet. He handed the flask back with a nod of thanks, unstrapping the rifle from his back. The father, however, was not done. With a quick glance at the house, the father leaned in and spoke in a hushed tone.

"Listen, D-Deathtrooper, I was wondering if you could do me a favor. I can pay you for it, of course, it's just something I need doing and… I'm worried about my wife and daughter, and I don't think… I mean…" A glance from DT-227 made the man get to the point.

"The goblins, they probably set up a camp nearby in a cave. Where there are a few, there are dozens more. I mean, they are probably waiting for you to leave to strike again," The man chuckled nervously, still looking up at DT-227's face. All the man saw was the reflection of his face and the emotionless helmet.

"Do you know where they are?" Asked DT-227 after a few pregnant moments of silence. The father let out a noticeable sigh of relief, a hand over his heart.

"Thank you. I don't know exactly where," The father turned to the house, indicating past it, the road, and the forest to a foothill. It was, maybe, a thirty-minute run from where they were, "But I'm guessing they've set up shop somewhere in that foothill. They like caves, see? I would deal with it myself by… I'm not a young man anymore. Fighting a few is bad enough, but as a group in their home?"

"I'll take a look," DT-227 said, slinging his blaster over his back and walking back to the house. The relief in the man's face was clear as day.

DT-227 walked back in, earning the looks of the three women. The Governess and the daughter of the two farmers were seated together in what he assumed to be the latter's room, the door was ajar, while the mother was hard at work sewing back together the Governess's clothing.

Without a word, he passed the mother and entered the room he and the Governess had shared. He grabbed one of the duffle bags and opened it, pulling free a detpak. Was it overkill? Perhaps, but he wanted to make sure the 'salt the land' as they say and ensure no other goblins could take up residence in whatever cave they were hiding out in.

He left the house without a word, passing the father as he went. It was a quick trek from the farmland to the wooded area opposite the well-traveled road, but he stopped at the edge. It was, after all, bad business to wander into battle blind. DT-227 reached into one of his pouches, withdrawing an orb about the size of his fist. He pushed a button on the side, causing it to glow green. Winding back his arm, the Deathtrooper sent the orb sailing into the sky where it stopped, hovering. Invisible to all, the orb began scanning the immediate area, drawing him an accurate map.

For a few minutes, he stood silently and waited for the orb to finish its job. Eventually, it gave a small sound and dropped back to the ground. DT-227 merely extended a hand and caught it effortlessly, tossing it back into its hideaway in one of his bandoliers. The map was quickly transferred to his HUD, showing a detailed layout of the nearby area. After a bit of studying, he noticed a duo of figures about a mile and some from his position. Both were short, and though the orb was unable to get a close photograph of them, he recognized their short features. There was also the matter of a cave being behind them.

He smiled, he found his prey. The Deathtrooper took off at a run in the direction the orb pointed him, leaping over fallen trees and undergrowth with the grass of an athletic sprinter. He closed the distance in only a few minutes, kneeling quickly before he was spotted by the goblins. At his tap, the HUD activated the onboard binoculars. The two goblins were standing guard at the entrance of a cavern, armed with a knife and spear.

He brought the rifle up, quickly sinking the scope with his helmet. DT-227 held his weapon steady, taking a deep breath in. Faster than the eye could follow, he squeezed out two rounds before breathing out. A duo of crimson blaster bolts closed the distance between DT-227 and the goblins. Before either had any idea what was happening, they were lying dead on the ground. Pleased with his work, DT-227 prowled forwards with his rifle still raised. No others came out in investigate, meaning they either didn't no their kin were dead or they were hiding, waiting to ambush him.

He stopped at the opened, checking to ensure the two goblins were dead, before peering down the dark opening. His helmet quickly activated the night vision, showing it went down at a gradual decline. Briefly, the Deathtrooper debated just throwing a detpak into the hole and being done with it, but a smaller part of his mind told him to stop. It was better to be safe, to ensure the whole lot of them were dead than to play with fate and explosives. Making up his mind, DT-227 raised his rifle and set into the hole.

He crept along twists and turns alike, unable to hear anything in the deep darkness save his own boots scraping along the ground. None of the goblins bizarre grunts and growls, nor their screams of anger and rage.

The path twisted down lower, and when he reached a landing.

Several goblins were waiting there. None were expecting him, evidently as half were asleep, but now they certainly saw him. DT-227 didn't spare a moment, three of the goblins dropped in a matter of a couple seconds. The rest, realizing they were under attack, leaped at DT-227. The trooper was, however, not some weakling they could overwhelm or scare. Given how close they were, the advantage his heavy blaster was lost.

A quick hit with the butt of his rifle sent one goblin careening away, blood flying from its nose and mouth from the force. He threw the gun at the next goblin, the weight of the weapon too much as it fell. DT-227's right hand quickly freed his pistol from its holster. Two more flashes of red, two more dead goblins.

Pleased with his work, DT-227 walked over to the last goblin, who was pinned beneath the heavy blaster. It struggled furiously, cry out while glaring at the Deathtrooper. Without a word, he brought his boot down on its skull. He was rewarded by the sound of bones snapping, but his victory was short lived. A newcomer arrived from a room further back. Easily matching DT-227's height, a massive goblin appeared with a sadistic grin. DT-227 quickly raised his pistol, firing into its massive gut. The creature roared in pain, but DT-227 didn't dispatch it with another bolt. There was always something pleasing, finishing a job with one's own hands.

He closed the distance, tackling the goblin. The beast stumbled a few paces, clearly surprised a human could have so much strength. DT-227 didn't give it a moment to recuperate, quickly drawing his knife and driving it into the exposed neck of the goblin. It tried to roar in pain, but its own blood was quick to start drowning it. DT-227 twisted, dragging his knife the length of the goblin's neck before pulling it out. A loud sound relaying in his helmet made the Deathtrooper follow up his movements with a throw of his knife. The moment it left his hand, and arrow shattered uselessly against his helmet. The knife, however, was not so ineffective. It found its mark in the chest of a goblin archer. The beast crumpled with a gasp, dead.

DT-227 quickly gathered his blaster and knife, marching down the path that the last two goblins took to reach him. It led down a way before depositing him in a larger room.

It was filled with five goblins, four regular ones and one with a bizarre head-dress and staff. There was, however, another figure in the room. Situated off in one corner, a young woman was curled up. She looked battered and bruised, having been stripped of her clothes some time ago. She had a lifeless, lost look in her eyes that enraged the Deathtrooper. Perhaps it was because the same thing could have happened to the Governess, or perhaps because his newfound compassion was compelling him so, but the felt an unending, fiery rage. The lead goblin, the one with the staff, began to speak in their strange language. DT-227 was, however, not going to let it finish whatever it was doing. He lowered the rifle, aiming into the group.

He didn't fire with precision or aiming to have each shot count. No, he just held down the trigger. A hail of blaster bolts shredded the goblins, illuminating the whole room in bright, red light. The woman flinched, staring at the lights with equal parts fear and wonder. After a few moments, DT-227 released the trigger, mostly because the gun was getting far too hot. He lowered it, finding that all the goblins were very much dead.

And in pieces.

Pieces that scattered the floor and walls like some macabre work of art.

He walked into the room, careful not to dirty his boots with the goblin remnants. He knelt beside the woman, who looked up at him in pure terror. A natural reaction, she had just seen an entire group of goblins butchered, and now all she could see was a pair of glowing, green lights towering over her.

DT-227 reached into a point and pulled free a small lantern. He activated it, bathing the room in its bright blue light. The woman flinched, clearly not expecting the sudden light. As her eyes adjusted, however, she found herself staring up at possibly the most terrifying thing she had ever seen, save the goblins which had defiled her for so long.

"Who-" She started, but her voice broke and quivered. DT-227 knelt down next to her, setting the lantern down.

"It's okay, they're all dead now. They can't hurt you anymore," He spoke, knowing his voice was far from comforting. He hoped the words would help, though. Tears formed at the woman's eyes, disbelief in their depths.

Any further words were cut off by cries behind the throne that likely belonged to the head goblin. The girl's eyes quickly darted to the place before she looked back at him. DT-227 rose, the cries did not sound as deep as the goblins he had been dealing with thus far, so what…

One black boot crushed the throne, allowing him access to a hidden door within. It was a third his height, made of rotting wood and rather poorly built. He pulled it open, kneeling again and spying half a dozen goblins.

Baby goblins.

 _So they breed?_ Thought the Deathtrooper. The small voice of mercy spoke in the back of his head, trying to reason that, as children, they were innocent.

Sadly, the 'Deathtrooper' portion of his brain took over. They were not innocent children, they were future threats. It was his duty as a Deathtrooper do dispose of all threats to his ward.

DT-227 grabbed one of the grenades on his belt, twisting it. The baby goblins began screaming and trying to retreat deeper into their hideaway, but it was a fruitless endeavor. He tossed the grenade in and closed the door, turning back to the woman. Inside, it burst instead of exploding. It spewed a thick, white smoke, but this was no regular smoke. The goblins began screaming, and had he not had a filter, DT-227 would have smelt their flesh being burned away.

He approached the woman, kneeling again and offering his hand.

"It's over, you're free now. Can you walk?" He asked. The woman stared at him for a few more seconds before breaking into tears anew, wrapping her arms around him as tightly as he could. This took DT-227 off-guard, but he let it happen. After the ordeal she must have suffered for who knew how long, he decided to let her have this moment.

A few minutes passed before he helped her to stand. She was shaky and unstable, but he promised to carry her once they were free of the cave. It was difficult enough for him to walk in it, given his startling height.

Him holding the lantern, he guided her gently by the hand through the winding passages of the cavern. She looked at the bodies of the other goblins with equal parts fear and satisfaction. Her tormentors were dead, and that drove her forwards.

DT-227 briefly stopped at the mouth of the cavern, planting his detpak with a ten-minute timer.

Sure that it would go off, he brought the woman the rest of the way out of the cavern, into the sunlight. She put up an arm, blocking the sunlight as her eyes quickly adjusted to the newfound light. Once she adjusted, however, she broke down again. She fell to her already skinned and damaged knees, shaking fearfully.

"Thank you, thank you," She cried over and over again, covering her face with her hands. DT-227, unsure of how to react, knelt down in front of her and gently pried her hands from her face.

"Come, I'll take you to the family that has been housing me, they'll help you," He spoke gently, turning so his back was to her. The woman sniffed but wrapped her arms around his neck. He rose, grabbing her legs so as to support her while he walked.

He moved at a brisk pace, listening to the woman's breathing and periodic sobs or sniffs. Eventually, they were shaken by the explosion of DT-227's detpak back in the cavern. The woman cried out in shock, but DT-227 took that as an excuse to move faster. Didn't want to be caught by any possible rubble, now did her?

They reached the farmhouse in about half an hour. The father and mother rushed to meet them, shock and horror on the faces as they saw the woman DT-227 was carrying on his back.

"What happened?!" The mother asked as he let the woman down, allowing her to walk the rest of the way inside. The father took off his jacket and put it around the woman, who flinched at the sudden contact but didn't make a sound. She did, however, grab DT-227's forearm, evidently terrified of being separated from her savior.

"Found her in the goblin's cave," Explained the Deathtrooper shortly, leading the woman inside with the mother and father close behind. The Governess and daughter, who were inside the latter bedroom still, looked up with their own matching expression of shock at the woman DT-227 brought. The mother quickly made to bring the woman with her to her bedroom, where medical supplies were likely located, but the woman froze. She looked up at DT-227, terror in her eyes.

"They won't hurt you," He explained, nodding his head. She seemed to hesitate a moment longer before releasing the Deathtrooper. She was brought into the bedroom, the door being summarily closed.

The father sighed, looking up at DT-227 with sadness in his eyes.

"It's horrible, seeing that kind of stuff. The goblins?"

"All dead, I collapsed their cave."

"No less than they deserve," Snarled the father before he found his sense again. He grabbed a bag from the counter, the contents jingling as he moved.

"Here, payment as agreed," He emptied the contents out into DT-227's hand. There were five silver coins, ten bronze.

"I assume you don't know the currency?" Asked the father. At DT-227's head shake, the man explained.

"Fifteen bronze to a silver, ten silver to a gold, easy enough."

"Thank you," Said the Deathtrooper as he placed the coins in one of his many pouches.

"No, thank you. I can rest easy now knowing those… _Creatures_ are dealt with." DT-227 nodded in agreement, they really were heinous little monsters. Should the Empire ever find them, he would be sure to put in a request that all goblins be exterminated.

"What of the girl?"

"Her? I'll probably take her into town tomorrow, if my wife thinks she's good enough to be moved that far," The father sighed, pinching his nose, "It's a two days trip there and back by cart, but I don't want to leave my family that long-"

"Don't. We'll take her when we leave," DT-227 couldn't stop himself, this altruistic side was growing by the hour. Then again, after all she had been through? It wouldn't be too much to have her stay with them for a few days time as he and the Governess traveled to wherever this town was, "There may be more goblins around."

"I… Thank you, Sir Deathtrooper. I appreciate that. We'll happily house and feed you two until she is fit to leave."

"Thank you for your generosity," With that, DT-227 stepped outside, he needed some fresh air. These last few days had been rather… _Traumatic_. Not comparable to what some had suffered, but his brain was fried. He needed to deal with this thrice-damned headache and suddenly human emotions...


	3. Chapter 3

**Deathtrooper**

 **Chapter 3**

 **Emotions**

* * *

Far later than DT-227 would have preferred, the woman he had saved from the goblins was deemed able to travel. She was still a shell, rarely speaking or interacting with others, but as the father said: 'She'll fit in perfectly with you lot, then'.

It was three days after he had saved her that found them in front of the home, saying their goodbyes to those that had housed them for the last half week. Many thanks were exchanged between the parties, though it was rather one-sided from the farmers as the traveling trio were not talkative types.

"If you ever need anything, you know where to find us," The father told DT-227 as the Deathtrooper picked up his duffle bags and made to begin the long trek to the village he had mentioned. It was to be a three-day walk by foot, not counting the fact that the woman was still physically and mentally weakened, and Governess was not accustomed to traveling long distances by foot.

"I'll keep that in mind," He responded, nodding to the man before turning and walking over to join his other two companions. Governess was adorned once again in the clothing she had arrived on the planet with, looking as if no damage had befallen them. Her spirits, while saddened by having to leave, were at an all-time high. It appears a few days of rest did not go remiss, as anxious as it made DT-227.

There was the unasked question in her eyes, however, why did they have to leave? Followed by, where were they going? To be completely honest, DT-227 didn't have an answer himself. He had no intention of sticking in whatever town it was they were headed towards, even though it seemed modern technology had yet to grace this far corner of space. The rebels likely had no presence, else the locals would have had an idea what the 'Empire' or 'Galactic Civil War' was. When he brought these both up one night with the father, he looked at DT-227 as if he were speaking an alien language. In all fairness, to that man he basically was.

That brought another matter, how was it he and the farmers could speak the same language? Galactic Basic was the easiest language that could be spoken by the peoples of the galaxy, bar a few unfortunate races. While almost every race held their own language, most still learned basic for day-to-day life. It would be another matter to look into, he decided, to find out _how_ they could speak Galactic Basic.

The trio began walking away from the farmhouse. The family's shouted good-byes could be heard, dragging the attention of Governess and the woman. The former gave a wave, a wide smile on her face as she bid farewell, the woman merely glanced back before looking forward again, her eyes glued to the path before them. DT-227 looked at her, briefly, before looking forward.

"Thank you!" Called Governess, the usually stoic girl sounding happy, if a little wistful.

They turned onto the path, heading left in the direction of the town that the father had told him about. The supposed three-day trek by foot would likely extend into four or even five, depending on how far either of the two women could go.

He looked to his left, where Governess was walking a few paces away. She had her arms folded behind her back, looking out over the wonder of nature that expanded as far as the eye could see. Even after almost a week being here, the wonder in her eyes refused to cease or even weaken. Even as mature as she tried, emphasis on tried, to act, she was still a child at heart. It made him wonder, if not for the first time, what her early childhood had been like. As the daughter of a regional governor, she would undoubtedly start being trained to succeed him from a young age. Her home planet was very industrialized, not at the level of Coruscant, but certainly lacking in grandiose views of scenery or natural wildlife.

He turned his attention of to the newcomer of this little group, a woman whose name, or in this case title, he didn't even know. They hadn't shared so much as two words since he had saved her from the goblin cavern, which was understandable. Not only did she spend most of her time under the care of the mother, but she had also seemingly been terrified of every shadow and movement that she wasn't expecting, which around the boisterous daughter of the family was always. Why she agreed to join DT-227 and Governess in walking to the town was beyond the Deathtrooper but to each their own.

She looked especially scared now, pulling the shawl given to her by the mother tightly around her shoulders and scanning the nearby treeline for any movement or threats. It was a stark contrast between the two, Governess had not a care in the world, humming absently to herself as she walked. The woman made herself small as she shuffled along, keeping pace with the other two but still keeping her distance. DT-227 wasn't going to pretend to understand her reasoning, it was if she wanted to remain close but also feared them.

Of course, he didn't look very approachable. Seven-something feet, wearing full black armor with an intimidating helmet to match, the only change in color being the duo of ominous, green lights at the bottom of his helmet. He wasn't very bulky, but sometimes startling height was all it took. It also didn't help that he was covered in weapons, explosives, and a number of bizarre looking tools.

Lost in his thoughts, a couple of hours passed for the Deathtrooper as they walked. Eventually, when he looked back, he noticed the woman was starting to lag, exhaustion mixing with the constant fear on her face. He stopped, drawing the attention of Governess. Her confused glance was answered by a nod of his head towards the woman. She followed his nod, spotting the woman and nodding in response, jogging over to her.

They seemed to share a few words before Governess led the woman over, a kindly smile on her face. She met DT-227's eyes, or tried to given the blackened visor, and jerked her head towards the empty patch next to them. Taking the hint, he nodded subtly.

"Let's take a break," He stated, walking towards the empty patch and setting the duffle bags down. If the woman noticed the other's silent exchange, she didn't show it as she allowed herself to be guided over.

DT-227 knelt before one of the duffle bags, opening it digging around for a second before pulling out one his ration bars. He rose, turning to look at the other two.

They had both seated themselves in the grass, Governess opening the small bag she was given by the mother. The conversation leading up to the agreement of them taking some food with them had earned DT-227 a glare from the mother.

They had been preparing the night before to leave when she approached them.

" _ **Here, some sandwiches for the road ahead,**_ " _She had said kindly, offering the bag to DT-227. He severely debated accepting it, the woman was amazing at cooking even when it came to something as simple as a sandwich, but he put up a hand to refuse._

" _ **No, thank you. We have enough food the trek,**_ " _He had said, feeling a pang of regret at the down look on the mother's face, likely reading a little too much into his words._

" _ **Yes, bland, tasteless, horrid food,**_ " _Deadpanned the Governess as she helped pack one of the duffle bags, scowling at the ration bars as she stuffed them in. The mother looked from the bars to DT-227, a scowl starting to set into her face. Without another word, she handed the bag over to Governess and left with a huff. DT-227 glared at Governess, who merely cackled._

He didn't understand what her problem was, however, ration bars weren't _that_ bad.

Governess, however, was offering him the third sandwich, already stuffing some of hers into her mouth with glittering eyes. Even the woman was eating hers, albeit with small and tentative bites.

"Eat up, Deathtrooper!" She said, waving the sandwich back and forth with a cruel grin. They had agreed it was probably best if they start calling one another by their agreed upon titles so as to avoid any confusion, not that they knew any other name to call the other by.

"I'm fine," He responded, holding up the ration bar. She raised an eyebrow, her smile not disappearing. DT-227 scowled at her from under his helmet before twisting and pulling it off. He set the helmet aside and, in spite of her, took a large bite from the ration bar.

He gagged.

The bite of bar fell to the grass as he coughed a wheezed.

What the hell?! They had never tasted that bad before, what changed?!

" _ **Try my roast, Sir Deathtrooper. One bite and you'll never go back!**_ " _Announced the mother proudly, a smile on her face as she offered DT-227 a plate of food._

Damn her and her cooking, now he had to reacclimate himself back to eating these rancid ration bars!

"Deathtrooper," He turned at Governess's voice, finding the sandwich being swung at him. Her smile had never faltered, joined now by her giggling. Even the woman cracked a weak smile, chuckling at his plight. DT-227 scowled at her, debating taking another bite from the bar in spite of her-

He puked a little in his mouth and decided acclimation could start tomorrow. A Deathtrooper could last under torture and force manipulation, but offer him good food as an alternative to ration bars? He would fold faster than a stack of cards in a hurricane.

* * *

At Deathtroopers pushing, they went several more miles until dark began to come before stopping to 'sleep'.

Of course, Governess knew that meant she and the woman would sleep while he prowled about outside, keeping an eye out for hostiles. She could barely make him out in the darkness save his silhouette in the moon and the two green lights on his helmet. He was standing a few meters in front of the entrance of the tent, scanning the horizon for a few moments before moving on in his patrol.

Governess pressed her lips together before curling up to sleep, she had tried and failed to convince him time and time again to sleep, but apparently, her words and concerns went right over his head.

"Does he sleep?" Governess jumped, not expecting the soft voice as she tried to sleep. Flipping over, she found herself staring into the emerald eyes of the woman, who was wrapped up in one of Deathtrooper's extra sleeping bags.

"Pardon?" Governess blurted out before she could stop herself.

"I've… Noticed he never sleeps or… Rests." The woman explained, her voice growing weaker as if she feared retribution for asking questions. Governess offered her a soft and kind smile before answering her question.

"Not much, his sort can go a long time without sleep." She explained, but that only added to the woman's confusion.

"What is 'his sort'?"

"Oh, sorry. You know his name, Deathtrooper?" At the woman's nod, she continued, "Well, that isn't unique to him. They are a collection of… Physically changed soldiers. He is just one Deathtrooper. I don't much about them, they protected my father, but I do know that they are taken from their families from a young age and trained to be the best soldier they can."

"That's… Horrible," The woman murmured, her eyes distant as she likely was remembering whatever Deathtrooper did to save her. Governess nodded in agreement, though she too was deep in thought.

"He doesn't talk much, neither do you for that matter unless it's towards each other," The woman suddenly brought up, earning a confused glance from Governess.

"We do? Huh, usually we just communicate with nods and head jerks," The woman chuckled softly at that.

"You seem to understand each other, if only somewhat."

Governess snorted at that, understanding Deathtrooper was a challenge she wasn't she could undertake. He was an enigma, an emotionless, hard-headed enigma, and she voiced as much.

"He's a tad bit rude, emotionless, and hard-headed," She listed off looking up at the ceiling of the tent, "But I like to think he's a good person underneath it all. Like when he saved that family, any other of his lot would have just stuck by my side and let the family die. They were not his priority, in his eyes, they should have been an asset, a distraction."

"But he didn't?" The woman asked, eliciting a small smile from Governess.

"But he didn't."

"You sound fond of him," The woman noted, earning a snort from Governess.

"Please, he's still abrasive and a little intense. I didn't even know he was _human_ until I first heard him and his squad speak." Governess chuckled, shaking her head at such a foolish thought. What did she think he was, a droid?

And then she froze, realizing what the woman was insinuating. A blush covered her face as she turned and scowled at the woman. Instead of her usually terrified demeanor, a wry smile had split across her face.

"No!" She snapped a little louder than she intended to, pausing as Deathtrooper's footsteps stopped for a second. She waited until the sound of crunching leaves and sticks returned to speak, "He's probably a decade older than I am! Besides, I've got my future all decided for me and a marriage arranged," She scowled at the memory of her arranged marriage.

"Arranged marriage?"

"Yeah, I'm to be married into the worse sort of family, the Tarkin family. They are helmed by one of the evilest men in the-" She paused, "Government. His great-nephew, I think."

"Oh, my apologies."

"Don't worry about it," Governess dismissed her apology with a wave of her hand, "I've gotten used to the idea. Anyways, we should probably sleep. Deathtrooper is probably going to frog march us all day tomorrow with few stops, and I don't think we want to be tired for that," She said with a wink, earning a chuckle from the woman. Both got comfortable and closed their eyes, allowing sleep to take them.

Governess, however, was not able to sleep long before she was awoken by a scream, making her jump. She looked around quickly, activating the lantern overhead. The source was, as she assumed once her brain started properly working, the woman. She was writhing, begging and whimpering under her breath, every few seconds punctuated by another scream.

Governess froze, not knowing what to do. She had never dealt with this sort of thing before, so after a moment she did the only thing she could think of, hugging the woman's head to her chest and whispering words of comfort.

"What's happening?" Governess turned her head, and like a phantom Deathtrooper appeared, kneeling in the entrance to the tent.

"A nightmare, I think, I-I don't know." Already, the woman was calming slightly, whimpering quieter now. Neither of the two Imperials spoke, watching the woman grasp tightly onto Governess like her life depended on it.

"Is there anything you need?" Asked Deathtrooper, his emotion unable to be distinguished under his helmet.

"The lights," Governess said, which he thankfully shut off with a push of a button on his wrist. The sound of twigs and leaves crunching beneath his feet followed shortly as he continued his patrol as if nothing out of the ordinary happened.

* * *

Morning came, and with it renewed energy from the women. Governess seemed to never mention last nights happenings to the other women, so DT-227 did the same. She seemed to come a little more out of her shell, agreeing with Governess's assessment of the ration bars he distributed to them. They were, however, filling and nutritious, and would suffice until they could reach the town.

Fed and watered, the group set out at the same pace they had yesterday. At the front was DT-227, to his left Governess, who was enjoying the majesty of the lake they were passing, and to his surprise, the woman walked directly behind her. She looked from Governess to the lands, a small smile showing her amusement at the younger woman's glee.

He cracked a smile of his own, of course, hidden beneath his helmet. It surely was a beautiful sight, in spite of his amusement as her awe. He had never been one to enjoy the beauty of nature, always instead seeing it as a possible battleground or how best to hide in it for a coming battle. It was now, however, with no looming battle or struggle threatening to encroach that he was able to truly take in how beautiful it was.

The lake was massive, extending out past the horizon with a number of small homes dotting the sides. He could make a few boats carrying what he assumed to be fishermen. Not commercial companies, looking to gather as much food as possible to feed a large population center, but instead, a few people either getting a meal for a night or simply fishing for the love of it.

It would be a shame to finally leave and go back to the formulaic and lifeless work of a Deathtrooper when they were eventually found.

 _If._

If they were found, and with each day his wish to leave seemed to grow weaker.

* * *

The second night of their trek found them in the clearing a short walk from the road into the neighboring forest. It was a little close to a cliff face for any of their liking, but DT-227 didn't want them out in the open and easy to spot.

He held his usual vigil in front of the tent, leaning against a tree with his former officer's blaster rifle slung over his back. As massive and unwieldy as it was, the weapon was devastating in combat. It could act as a marksman rifle, a machine gun, or a club of the situation called for it.

He glanced over to the tent, seeing that both of the women were either asleep or putting in a solid effort at trying to sleep. Then again, when they finally stopped a few short hours ago, both were exhausted and barely even able to stand. They ate their ration bars without complaint and curled up into their sleeping bags as he set up the sensors for the night.

He looked from them back into the forest, the night vision allowing him to see deep in the trees. Anything trying to slip by would not escape his notice, especially now that he had two people to look after-

A soft, pleasant sound rang in his helmet, drawing DT-227's attention. One of his sensors was going off. He rose to his feet, unslinging the rifle and following his HUDs direction to the given sensor.

It was located in a patch of grass, hidden from view of anyone that didn't already know it was there. He knelt down, feeling along the grass and searching for footprints. After a couple minutes, he found them.

 _Goblins._

He swore under his breath, gathering the sensor and pocketing it as he rose. He jogged back to their makeshift camp, collecting the other sensors as he went.

He arrived back at the camp, slowing to a stop in front of the tent and kneeling.

"Get up," He said, shaking Governess's arm. The girl blinked her eyes a few times, weariness clear in their depths as she sat up. With a groan, she popped her back.

"Mornin' already?"

"No, my sensor went off." He stated bluntly before walking over to the duffle bags. That seemed to wake Governess up, as she quickly scrambled out after him.

"W-What do you mean?" She asked as she tried to slip her shoes on with little success. DT-227 knelt down, dumping a few of the things he had taken out back inside.

"There were footprints around one of my sensors," He explained, rising after closing the duffle bag.

"Whatssgoin' on?" Asked the woman, evidently roused by their noise and movements.

"Noth-" Started the Governess.

"Goblins." DT-227 cut her off. This earned him a look of pure terror from the woman and a disappointed and furious glare from Governess. He didn't really understand her ire and chose not to ask.

"What are we going to do?" The woman asked, the fear in her voice quite evident.

"Move the camp across the road," DT-227 said, closing up the tent after the woman climbed out. It was an open plain on that side, so he would better be able to make out any dangers or movement compared to the dense forest.

They quickly gathered everything, the woman seeming to be on verge of having a panic attack as she shakily tried to get her own shoes on.

Once they all had they stuff collected, the group jogged to the other side of the road where DT-227 promptly set up the tent. The women climbed in, closing the tent door as DT-227 stood guard outside. He kept watch, ensuring nothing could get close without his knowing, but despite it all no one got much sleep that night.

* * *

The next morning was hard for the two women, their eyes red with dark lines beneath them. However, instead of letting them rest, DT-227 got them moving bright and early, hoping to put as much distance between them and the goblins.

As such, the women were trailing a couple meters behind him, dragging their feet and looking half dead. It was a bad combination with the constant fear on the woman's face as she glanced at the woods and checked behind her as if trying to ensure herself they weren't being followed.

But they were, DT-227 didn't need to be a genius to know that much. That, and he would every once in a while spot movement at the edge of the forest, always disappearing before he had a chance to catch a glimpse of whatever it was. He was no betting man, but he wagered it to be a goblin or several goblins. He knew the only thing that was warding them away was his protection of the women. The intimidation of his armor and startling size seemed to be enough to keep them at bay, but for how long? What if they gathered enough goblins to get past him and reach the women?

No, these goblins needed to be dealt with, but it was a question of how. He couldn't just leave the girls and track the goblins, some may take that as a chance to attack…

He glanced back them, forced to stop and give the duo a chance to catch up. As they walked over, a plan began to hatch within his mind.

Once they reached him, he looked up at the sun. It was only noon, but he needed time to set up…

"How about we stop here for today?"

* * *

It was bizarre, Deathtrooper did not strike Governess as someone who would notice how exhausted his companions were. She assumed he must be full of surprises, after all, he can't always be… _him._

She didn't worry about it, however, instead curling up in her sleeping bag and letting sleep take her. The woman, who had seemed so distraught, slept peacefully next to her, her face now calm. Governess gave a soft smile before closing her own eyes, listening to the sound of DT-227's boots stomping around. It didn't click with her, in her exhausted state, that he wasn't moving in a clear, repeated patrol but instead was moving frantically from one place to another.

She slept for several hours, enjoying a relaxing dream of her times as a younger girl playing in one of her father's villa, one of the few times he was not always pushing her. Her dream was interrupted, however, by a sound coming from nearby. It was slightly high-pitched, sounding like a growl. It was alien, yet familiar…

She opened her eyes, turning to face the opening to the tent. It was night, so the only light was that of the moon above, but was still not difficult to make out the figure in the entrance of the tent.

It was short, maybe the height of a small child. It had long ears with an equally elongated nose, both attached to a bizarrely large head. The body, thin and wiry, led down to oversized feet. One of its hands was holding the tent open while the other held a long, jagged knife.

A goblin. It was a goblin.

Governess screamed out in shock, kicking back and inadvertently colliding with the woman, who was still deep in her sleep. The woman jumped at the sudden hit, and Governess's scream. She spotted the panting goblin almost as soon as she opened her eyes. Instead of screaming, however, she whimpered in fear, curling into a fetal position and looking up at it in sheer terror.

It cackled, making to leap at them with its blade. This moment never came as a dark figure suddenly grabbed its thin leg. The figure quickly tossed it aside and blocked the entrance to the tent with its body. Several flashes of red followed, joined by the report of blasters.

Deathtrooper, it was Deathtrooper that was blocking the goblins from reaching them. Governess sighed in relief before remembering the other person of their party. The woman seemed to relapsed back into herself, staring in terror at where the goblin had been. She didn't move nor speak as Governess pulled her close, speaking words of comfort. The sounds of battle outside passed, the cries and growls of the goblins no longer able to be heard outside.

She let the woman go, for her relief and fear were quickly replaced by fury. Fury, because he had not been there to stop the goblins from getting that close. Fury, because he was nearly too late.

She crawled out of the tent, trying to force her eyes to adjust to the darkness. There were at least a dozen little forms in the grass, dead or merely unconscious she did not care. What Governess did care about was the much taller figure standing in the midsts of them, blaster hanging loosely in his hands as he surveyed the bodies for survivors.

Sucking in a breath, she stormed up to him with a raging storm of emotions.

"What the hell!" She snapped as soon as she was close enough, careful not to yell less she scare the woman even further. Deathtrooper turned, peering down at her from behind his helmet.

"What?" He asked, the absolute gall of him. He sounded as if he didn't feel he did anything wrong.

"How did they get that close? Did your sensors not pick them up?!" Governess demanded, wondering if it were truly wise to trust her life in the hands of their soldier for the first time since their arrival.

"I knew they had passed my sensors," He responded simply, slinging the rifle over his back.

"Then why didn't you-" And then it clicked, and the fact made her all the more furious, and terrified, "You _let_ them close?! You _let_ them nearly attack us?!"

"I had to ensure that they were all killed," It sounded less like a defense of his actions and more like an after-action report to an officer, "This was the most efficient manner in which to achieve that goal."

"We were _bait?!_ I can't believe you! After everything I went through- No, everything _she_ went to, you let her think the goblins were going to get her?!" Snarled Governess up at the man, growing even further into her anger at her inability to see his face under the helmet. She wanted to see him looked ashamed, to apologize for what he had done and nearly allowed to happen before swearing to never repeat such actions. She knew he wouldn't, however. No matter how human he acted at times, the man was nothing more than a well-oiled weapon for the Empire, she had only imagined he was anything else. To him, they were assets, means to an end. A moment of weakness saved her life.

"I killed the goblins, nothing happened," The man continued, his voice not betraying any emotion one way or another.

"And what about her?! All this progress getting past what happened to her in that cave, things I'm going to assume you witnessed first hand or saw the aftermath, and you allowed goblins to dig those memories back up?! Why, because it made killing them all more convenient if they were distracted by us?"

"There was no physical harm-" He started, but Governess was in no mood.

"There is more than just physical harm, you psychopath! And what about me? Whether you like it or not, Deathtrooper, we are partners in this mess, comrades in arms. We are both trapped here, and while you are certainly the better fighter, you have the emotional and diplomatic range of a _teaspoon_. Partners don't happily throw partners into the line of fire!" She yelled at him, unable to keep the hurt and anger out of her gradually increasing voice.

"I did not happily risk your lives!" The first sign of emotion since they had started talking, hurt and disbelief.

"No, you just did it because it was convenient." With the final word, she twisted and returned to the tent, leaving the man to stew on her words.

She crawled back into her sleeping bag, dragging herself closer to the woman. The woman was still staring where the goblin had been, the terror in her eyes as heartbreaking as it had been when she first arrived at the farmhouse.

"It's okay, they're gone," She paused for a second, "I won't let them get you."

She almost said _he_ , but that would have been a lie.

* * *

The next morning passed in complete silence, Governess still refusing to speak to DT-227. He didn't really understand _why_ , after all, he had saved their lives and spared them a possibly worse fate, should the goblins have gathered a larger force to attack them. They came under no harm that he could see, and yet the woman seemed haunted once again. Governess looked split between anger towards him, pity towards the woman, and terror towards their surroundings.

He sighed, shaking his head while trying to sift through his still newfound emotions. He felt… Hurt that she, Governess, assumed he had happily allowed goblins to reach them. It was necessary, they needed to be grouped up for him to best kill them all. Any survivors could have returned with a bigger force and dealt them a far more dangerous blow.

Anger, that he was being shunned by her for doing so. Then again, she was young and not experienced in battle. Sacrifices had to be made, and a little fear on their part in return for their lives was more than worth it in his mind.

That anger was joined by sadness, sadness as he had begun to enjoy having the Governess around him. While most of their conversations were of nods and head jerks, they had found comradery. A comradery likely set back, if not ruined, by last night's events.

He shook his head, sighed before prowling forwards.

These emotions, he was beginning to hate them with a passion. They were restricting him, making him second guess himself and his actions. Governess was at the root of it all, ever since they had met everything had gone sideways. Even emotions like amusement or contentment were distracting, drawing his mind during the long vigils at night when he should be looking out for dangers.

He could remember the anger and disgust at the goblins, both in the cavern and at the farm. For them daring to lay a finger upon the defenseless, those who could not fight back against their disgusting machinations. For them using a woman as nothing more than a toy for their amusement. For them daring to try to harm Governess, his ward, the one he had to protect.

He could remember the few amusing moments he had Governess shared on their short travel, things that still made him give a wistful smile or made him shake his head at her antics. These memories, they were dragged back up at the worse time, when he was alone with his own thoughts or-

Or…

Or when he was forced to confront what reminded him of them.

He stopped for a second before pressing forth, his mind running at one thousand light years per second. Seeing a deer reminded him of he and Governess's encounter at the riverside, where he nearly evaporated the poor animal. Seeing the goblins reminded him of the anger, the disgust at their actions.

But what did the others feel when they saw the goblins when they were vulnerable and suddenly looking up at the monster that had tormented them? They remembered what had caused them to have this fear, to see what those monsters did to them again and again, repeating time and time again in their mind. It was like a brand upon their emotions and…

And he exacerbated that.

" _ **You just did it because it was convenient."**_

He had forced them both to feel the fear they had towards goblins, forced the woman to relive what they had done to her.

Not because it was necessary, but because it was _easier._

He felt sick, not because of the realization, but with himself. He could only imagine what those goblins did to that poor woman in that cave, the lashes and cuts along her body telling painful stories.

And he forced her to relive it all.

* * *

He recommended they stop at a clear patch of grass with easy visibility from all sides. Well, it was less recommend and more stop and jerk his head towards it. Governess understood and gently led the woman over to grass. They took their seats as DT-227 deposited the duffle bags.

He didn't sit down to eat, however. The Deathtrooper instead walked a few paces down the hill they were next to, staring out over the land before them. While the women couldn't tell it, DT-227 was deep in thought, debating with himself the best way in which he could go through his plan.

Who knew it was so difficult to ask for forgiveness? Was it pride, or perhaps not wanting to see the disappointment in Governesses and fear in the woman's eyes? Either way, it was taking all of his willpower to go through with this.

He turned, glancing back at them. Both were silently eating their ration bars without complaint, Governess checking around as if she expected goblins to jump out at any moment. That fear sent a pang through his heart, this was his fault. He couldn't fix it, but he could try to mend things between them.

DT-227 took a deep breath and spun on his heel, marching back up the hill towards them. He ran through his plan seventy more times as he went, but when he found him standing over them his mind pulled a blank.

Both looked up at him, confusion in their gazes. He sighed, making up his apology as he went. The Deathtrooper kneeled down to their level, and even then he was substantially taller than they were.

"I'm not very good at this…" He started, grabbing his helmet and twisting it. The hiss of the seal breaking filled the air before he pulled his helmet off. Setting it off to one side, he looked up at them. The woman still looked confused while an emotionless mask had covered Governess's face, "But I'm willing to try."

"I… Can't begin to understand what either of you went through, what you felt or saw when that… _Thing_ was what you woke up to. I can't even imagine your fear, nor will I try to," He started, his voice soft, "What I did was unforgivable, I see that. I should have come up with something better, or seen the affect goblins had on you, both of you. Instead, I did what would be the most convenient and efficient to achieve my goal, and you suffered for it. I just didn't realize until it was too late. So, I'm deeply sorry for what I have done. I wish I could take it back, not use you two as bait, but… I can't. I'm not begging for your forgiveness, I know what I have done and am willing to live up to it. I failed in my duty of protecting both of you."

He kept his head bowed, daring not to look lest he saw hate or blame in their eyes. Neither spoke for a few moments, likely silently staring at his head as they thought.

Finally, it was the woman who spoke.

"I… Forgive you, Sir Deathtrooper. It's thanks to you that I'm even alive right now," She said, "And while I was angry and scared that you would do something like that again, I understood your reasoning. I don't really understand what a 'Deathtrooper' is, nor what is required of them, but I can tell emotional… Scarring isn't one of them," He looked up at her, finding her teary smile looking back.

"Thank you," He responded with a bow of his head.

Governess, on the other hand, rose to her feet. Wordlessly, she grabbed his arm and began tugging away from the woman. As there wasn't a chance of her moving him, he obliged.

They walked out of earshot, down the hill he had just been thinking on. She stopped, turning to stare up at his face with squinting eyes. In spite of their size difference, he swallowed nervously.

Governess grabbed the top of his chest plate and pulled him down to her level, still staring at his face.

"What-" He tried, but was quickly shushed by her. She put her hands on the sides of his face, twisting his head around as if studying it from all sides.

"Well, you _look_ and _sound_ like Deathtrooper," She said, and he suddenly understood what she was doing.

"I _am_ Deathtrooper," He responded, equal parts amused and hurt at the assumption that he was incapable of apologizing.

"You can't be, because Deathtrooper is a stoic, emotionless arse," She stated rather brutally, earning a flinch from DT-227.

"Okay, I deserved that," He admitted, "But I'm not always emotionless, at least, not anymore. Ever since that crash, everything has been… Different."

"Different how?" She demanded, and he debated telling her it was classified. However, it seemed like she was beginning to forgive him, and he rather not throw the chance away.

"I can't really describe it. It's as if… I were nothing more than a droid before all of this, but now? Now it's as if I've been dropped into the deep end of human emotion." He wasn't very good describing what he felt, after all, this all was very new to him.

"Great, so of all the Deathtrooper that could have been my guardians, I get the one with mental health issues," She stated, the bite of which was softened by her smile.

"I'm stung by that accusation. Until I find out the true reason, I'm going to blame _you,_ as _you_ seem to be the catalyst to it all."

"I am fully willing to accept the fault for that, Deathtrooper. You are forgiven," She smiled, and damn her, it was so infectious that he couldn't stop himself from smiling, too.

* * *

It wasn't until a couple days later that the group arrived at the town the father had pointed them towards. It was small, maybe two dozen small homes and other mixed buildings. It would do, for now.

Shortly after they arrived, the group was flooded by people. DT-227 briefly went for his pistol before realizing the people were the woman's family and friends. As they split their attention between thanking DT-227 and Governess and crying over their newfound family member, the woman made eye-contact with DT-227.

Or tried to, he was wearing his helmet after all.

She offered a small smile and a nod of thanks, the latter of which was returned by the usually stoic soldier. She was quickly spirited away, leaving DT-227 and Governess alone in the center of the village.

With the woman gone, he suddenly came back to the realization that they had no direction. He had no assets, no missions now. Save one, that was, protecting the Governess.

He conveniently didn't think of the directive that called for him to execute her.

Now he had to find another outlet for his energies. They couldn't just keep traveling forever, not only was Governess likely to not last the endless traveling but, woe as it was to admit it, he needed to sleep and bathe like any normal person. He dreaded removing his armor at this point because he had been wearing it for the last week without removing anything save the helmet.

It was Governess that finally broke the silence, a sense of loss in her voice.

"Come on, we should probably get something to eat and find a place to stay tonight."


	4. Chapter 4

**Deathtrooper**

 **Chapter 4**

 **Dungeon**

* * *

It didn't take long for the duo to find the one inn that the small town had. It was a run down looking two story building with limited space and a rather abrasive owner. The man debated with DT-227 and Governess, more the latter than anything, about the price before they came to five bronze coins. As DT-227 hashed out the details, Governess was directed to the bathhouse.

She walked through the hall connecting the inn itself and the neighboring building, where she learned 'bath house' meant 'communal bathhouse'. Sure, there was a divide between men and women, but each area was public. The woman side, based on the few moments she popped her head in, was full of people. Likely where most people came to wash up.

As she debated what to do, the familiar sound of plastisteel boots drew her attention. Deathtrooper was walking over, blaster slung over his back. He was, however, devoid of all their supplies. At her confused glance, he elaborated.

"I put them in our room," He stated, stopping and looking up at the signs designating the washrooms from behind his helmet. Governess looked up as well, wondering or hoping how he was going to comment about them being communal.

He didn't, making to enter the men's side.

"They're communal," She mentioned conversationally, causing the man to pause and look back.

"So they are, is that a problem?" He asked rather genuinely as if communal baths were the most common thing in the world. Her mind wandered, imagining a team of tall, fit Deathtroopers bathing together. She fought down her rising blush, opting instead to scowl at Deathtrooper. He merely stared back before shrugging nonchalantly and entering the men's side.

Muttering under her breath, Governess entered the woman's side, immediately assaulted by a potpourri of pleasant smells and humid air. She shook her head and continued down the path, turning a corner into what amounted to a locker room of sorts. Dozens of cubies lined both sides of the hall, which ended at a doorway lacking a door.

Of course, a several of the cubies were full, meaning she would have to deal with numerous other women. She took in a deep breath, thinking to herself.

 _Just don't look at them, ignore them._

She was very self-conscious, it came from being a constantly independent and alone person in her youth. Sucking in her grievances, Governess quickly stripped down and put her clothing in one of the cubies. Grabbing a towel from the neatly folded stack, she walked out into the main room with her decency protected.

The smells, which were already powerful outside the room, became slightly overwhelming inside. There were, at least, a dozen other women present. Thankfully, they all seemed to ignore her. Pleased with this, Governess quickly spirited herself away to one secluded corner, setting to work with a few of the offered items on a number of stands dotting the room.

"Oh, I don't think I've seen you around here before. Are you new in town?" Asked a sweet-voiced woman from behind Governess shortly after she began cleaning herself, causing the young woman to give a small yelp and jump.

She twisted, still keeping her body facing away from the woman while trying, and failing, to fight back a blush. The woman was older, maybe in her seventies, with a kind smile on her wrinkled face.

"O-Oh, yes, I-I am." She managed to get out, berating herself for stuttering and being caught off-guard. Just because _she_ was a private person did not mean everyone else was!

"It's nice to see new faces every once in a while, did you arrived recently?"

"A-About an hour ago," Governess said, still uncomfortable about continuing with the woman standing there, watching. The woman, either not noticing or not caring about her plight, continued.

"Oh, very nice. Where did you come here from, if you don't mind my asking?"

"I-" She paused, not able to come up with a reasonable place, so instead opting for the truth, "- Am not supposed to say…" The woman looked intrigued but decided to take pity of Governess and change the topic.

"I understand, I'm Horse Owner's Wife, though you can just call me Howey." The kindly woman said.

"I-I'm Governess," Governess introduced herself. The woman's reaction was expected.

"G-Governess? My apologies, I didn't know I was speaking to traveling royalty, my sincerest apologies," The woman bowed, causing Governesses blush to grow substantially as several other people started looking over.

"Apology accepted, I don't exactly like lording it over people," Governess offered her a small smile.

"Oh, I hope you aren't here alone? It's dangerous for someone as important and young as yourself to be traveling around here on her own," The woman asked, and while her worry sounded genuine, Governess was offended by the assumption that she couldn't protect herself.

"My bodyguard is over on the men's side, bathing." She explained, waving in the direction of the men's side of the wash house.

The conversation continued, mostly about what Governess had seen on her way there and how she was enjoying the town thus far. Governess answered as truthfully as she could, leaving out certain parts about their crash, goblins, etc. Eventually, she felt sufficiently cleaned and made to leave, protecting her decency with the towel again. Howey opted to leave as well, citing that the hot water was bad for her skin after long exposure. The duo left, Governess awkwardly trying to dry and dress as the chatty older woman continued to talk.

They left the woman's side of the bathhouse, and sure enough, Deathtrooper was waiting for them on one of the benches, sitting stock still and staring straight ahead. At their arrival, he rose, staring down at both of the women.

"A-Ah," Said the older woman in shock, clearly not expecting a man of such startling height to approach her. Especially one dressed head-to-toe in pure black, and extremely intimidating, armor, "H-How can we help you?"

"Oh, Howey, this is my bodyguard," Governess said, slightly amused at how the bubbly woman was reduced to a sputtering mess at the sight of Deathtrooper.

"Oh… Err… I understand why you feel safe traveling the roads," The woman whispered to Governess, earning a small giggle from the young woman. Howey approached Deathtrooper, looking up at him with a slight smile.

"Good evening, I'm Horse Owner's Wife, though you can just call me Howey," The woman said in form of greeting. When Deathtrooper responded, his voice sounded unnaturally deep and extremely intimidating to any uninitiated to the man's intensity.

"I am Deathtrooper," He stated simply, making those three words sound like a threat of bodily harm.

"D-Deathtrooper?" Repeated Howey, her face growing pale as she stared up at Deathtrooper with renewed fear, "That… That's a…"

"A title," Deathtrooper helped, following it up with, "A fairly accurate one at that."

Howey swallowed, shaking the longer she stared into his empty helmet.

"Er… Right. I… I should be going now." The woman said and vanished as quickly as her old legs could carry her. Governess watched her vanish with a wry smile, looking back up Deathtrooper with a mix of amusement and exasperation.

"You need to work on your people skills, it's going to be hard making money if you play the 'trained murderer' card in every interaction," She admonished him, crossing her arms.

"It is extremely humid and hot here, and this suit lacks ventilation. Pardon my abrasive attitude," He bit out sarcastically, adjusting his helmet and rifle as he spoke. Governess clicked her tongue before waving him down the hall.

"Yeah, okay. Come on, show me where our room is."

"Of course, your highness," Deathtrooper said with a deadpan, turning and walking down the hallway.

"Finally, I'm getting some recognition I deserve!" Announced Governess pompously, an amused grin on her face as she quickly caught up with him. They walked in silence past the owner, who eyed them with distrust, and made their way up to the second floor. From there, Deathtrooper led her to the last room at the very end of the hall. He procured a key, unlocking the door and pushing it open.

This revealed a rather small room. At one end was a bed with a nightstand next to it. There was a small table with two chairs, a vase of flowers being the only decoration. There was also an equally small restroom off to one side. It was compact, quaint, and sufficient for a single person to stay in for a short period.

The problem? There was enough room for a _single_ person, not a seven-foot-tall titan and her. Not just that, but the bed inside was a single-wide, meaning there was enough room for _one_ person, two if they were a bit more frisky.

Governess felt, justifiably, angry at not just the assumption, but feeling as if they were gypped somewhat. Before she could voice this anger and demand they go _speak_ with the owner downstairs, Deathtrooper spoke.

"I purposely requested a smaller room with a single bed," He stated, stepping in and moving aside the duffle bags that were stacked near the door. Governesses mind pulled a blank at his words, _he_ requested a smaller room with _one_ bed? What-

Before her mind had time to jump to conclusions, however, Deathtrooper spoke up again.

"You'll take the bed, naturally, while I can stand guard from the table." He nodded his head towards the table as he spoke, leaning the blaster next to it. Governess narrowed her eyes before crossing her arms, staring at him incredulously.

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"When do _you_ intend to sleep?" A moment of silence followed her words.

"My physical augmentation ensures I do not need to-"

"-Sleep as often as a normal person, but that still means you need to _sleep_ ," Snapped Governess as she interrupted him, "I got that part. Do you remember what I said?"

"Yes: 'When do _you_ -" He started, quoting what she had just said, earning a groan from the young woman.

"Not that, you laser brain! We are partners in this, as much distaste as you have for the idea! Partners _discuss and work together_. We are in the same boat, and as skilled as you may be in combat not even _you_ can fight your way out of every situation." She was panting, her anger palpable at the sheer nerve of the man so soon after he had treaded upon her feelings and emotions a few days prior.

"I severely doubt that, given the technological level of the locals, anything stands a chance against-" Deathtrooper started but was cut off by a cry of anger from Governess.

"You are _insufferable!_ " She shouted, burying her face in her hands as Deathtrooper stared down her. Silence permeated for a few moments as she tried to calm herself. Finally, she managed to get control of herself.

"You _will_ get a healthy amount of sleep _every single night we are here,_ or so help me, I will find a way to inflict bodily harm upon you!" The threat was baseless, it was highly unlikely that she could harm Deathtrooper in any way nor would she wish to, but Governess really hoped the emotion was put across. It became a game of verisimilitude, both staring at the other and trying to get them to fold. Alas for Deathtrooper, or perhaps good for Governess, he folded first and put his hands up in surrender.

"Very well, you win. I will sleep for two hours every night."

"Eight," She countered.

"Four."

"Six." He grumbled under his breath for a moment before giving a hesitant nod. Governess was not so pompous as not to admit she celebrating her victory with a cheer that confused everyone on the lower floor.

* * *

It had been nearly two days since they had arrived at the town, and DT-227 was beginning to regret agreeing and golding beneath Governesses demands. He was restless during his sleep, trying and failing to keep his mind occupied. It felt _wrong_ to be doing nothing during the night when he felt perfectly awake.

The Governess, damn her, seemingly knew this but ignored his plight as this was some sort of victory over him in her eyes. Whatever let her sleep at night, he lamented, but for whatever reason, he was unable to stand up to her properly. Had he been an emotionless soldier like he was… Nearly two weeks ago, he would have just stunned her and put her in a constantly sedated state so as he could operate freely. However, now? Now he was some sort of whipped dog against her ire, and it didn't make a lick of sense to the Deathtrooper.

Pushing aside his constantly shifting and off-putting mental state for another day, DT-227 found himself lounging in their room, doing another inventory of what they had. This was the third or fourth time he had done this _today_ , but there was only so many times someone could read training manuals and mission reports before they seriously debated blasting their own brains out.

He lamented his boredom, there was nothing worse than a special forces operative with free time. At least back on Scarriff, there was something to do, someone to spar with, weapons that could be trained with in simulators. Here? All he could do was either walk around with Governess, take inventory, bathe, eat, or clean the blasters. Hell, the first one was out because his very presence kept scaring all the townsfolk away. This drove Governess to telling him to stay in the room if he wasn't going to wear something other than the armor.

What did she mean 'wear something other than the armor'? All he had was armor and the insulated, armored anti-blaster mesh.

He shook his head at her lack of thought but decided it could be forgiven.

It was then that the woman in question returned to their room, walking in while stretching and yawning.

"What do you want to do for dinner?" She asked, spotting DT-227 kneeling next to their supplies and sifting through them.

"Depends, how much money do we have?" He asked, lifting up one of his Sonic Imploders into the light filtering in through the window. It dark red glow, surrounded by a two-part durasteel shell, did little to tell the sheer power this one grenade had.

"Unimportant, if I never have to see another ration bar again, I would die happy."

"Then I hope you are prepared to die young because we can't stay here much longer with your eating habits," He retorted, setting the grenade down and eyeing her. She stemmed her fists into her hips, glaring down at him with an accusatory glare.

"Are you insinuating something, Deathtrooper?" She asked, a hint of warning in her voice. He was about to respond, likely with an insult or some astute observation when a few light knocks came from the door. The duo fell silent, staring at one another for a moment. Deathtrooper was the first to move, getting to his feet in one fluid movement as another set of knocks came. His right hand tightened around the grip of his sidearm, which was still in its permanent position on his hip, as his other hand grabbed the door handle.

He twisted it slightly, opening the door a few inches and peering out. A familiar face looked back at him with a small, tentative smile. It was the woman whom they had escorted to the town almost two days ago.

Sensing no danger, DT-227 pushed the door the rest of the way open. She looked significantly better than she had when they had last seen her. Her face had some color returned to it, though the haunted look in her eyes was still present.

"Good evening, Sir Deathtrooper," She said in the form of a greeting, dipping her head slightly. Unlike most of the rest of the townsfolk, there wasn't an ounce of fear on her face as she looked at him.

Likely hearing the woman's voice, Governess pressed past DT-227 and embraced the older woman.

"You're looking better," Stated Governess when she released the woman, studying her with an intense gaze.

"I feel better, being with my family, it's…" The woman paused for a second, "It's helped." The smile on Governesses face disappeared as she gave a solemn nod. Silence prevailed for a few moments before the woman seemingly remembered why she was there.

"Oh, my family would like you to join us for dinner tonight," The woman stated before quickly adding, "If you are available."

Without a glance back at DT-227, Governess gave a vigorous nod.

"Of course, what time?"

"Oh, around an hour from now if you could."

"We'll be there!" The woman smiled slightly at Governesses excitement and happiness, dipping her head.

"Until then," And with that, she left. Governess closed the door, turning to DT-227 with a broad grin on her face.

"Well, that's food taken care of," Her smile faltered as she peered off into space, "But that raises a new problem."

"What?" Asked DT-227, put off by the genuine worry on her face.

"We've nothing to wear!" She announced, clearly distraught. DT-227 stared at her for a few moments, wonder if he had heard her properly.

"Nothing… To wear?"

"Of course, we can't go out and eat with others dressed like bums off the street!" Governess announced before folding her hands behind her back. DT-227 just shook his head at her antics, returning the supplies he had just been taking stock of back to their places in the bag.

"Well, unless you have a couple dozen silver coins hidden on you, I think we're out of luck," He reminded her, kicking the bag back to place and turning to face her. Governess crossed her arms, looking indignant and glaring at DT-227.

"Well, I'm _sorry,_ some of us like to look presentable," She snarked, walking over to the table and emptying their money pouch.

"I'm perfectly presentable," Defended DT-227 weakly. This earned a scoff from the young woman, who separated a silver coin from the lot.

"Oh, I'm sure you could be. Let your hair grow out a bit, maybe get a tan, grow some facial hair, you would look like a regular Corellian nobleman," She stood up on her toes, patting the side of his helmet condescendingly, "Now, however? You look more likely to rip someone's throat out than enjoy a nice brunch. I need you to go get a bottle of wine. I don't know where you're going to find a bottle at this time for that price, but that's your problem."

She walked back towards the door as she spoke, having thrust the silver coin into his hand.

"Where are you going?"

"I need to bathe, unlike you, some people don't have a sealed suit to conceal their smell."

* * *

DT-227 walked down the street in the direction of the marketplace, blaster slung over his back and looking out for any threats. Naturally, anyone caught in his line of sight scrambled to ensure they weren't any longer. It both amused and depressed him that he, or more specifically his armor, had this effect on them.

He pushed these thoughts aside when he reached the marketplace. Most were still open, mostly those selling foods and liquor to those preparing for the last meal of the day. He made his way past stalls and stands, the workers seemingly desperate enough to swallow their fear of him to ask if he wanted to buy from their stand.

He hunted down one of the stands selling liquor. The man there was more than happy to give DT-227 a bottle cheap, seemingly wishing to get the intimidating man as far from him as possible. As the man bagged his purchase, DT-227 unintentionally overheard conversation next to him.

"- I'm telling you, without him, we can't take down that cavern!" A young female voice argued vehemently, soundly rather put out with someone.

"Please, we didn't need him, anyway! I can keep the goblins, or whatever is down there, at bay while Marksman takes them down!" A young man this time, sounding far too overconfident for DT-227's tastes. It reminded him of the arrogance that the father of Governess held.

A scoff answered the boy's words, coming from a third member. This one was also female.

"Yeah, and the Demon King will throw himself on a sword. Face it, Swordsman, we're shot outta luck. If you can't find us a tank in the next two days, then I'm heading back to Frontier Town."

"Yeah, this is just a waste of money at this point-"

"Okay, okay… How about him?" DT-227 could feel three pairs of eyes on him, that and his suit gave a warning beep. He suddenly felt himself silently urging the shop owner to speed up.

"Who, _him?_ I mean, yeah, the guy looks big, but that armor doesn't look very heavy. Plus, for all, we could know he's some town guard." Spoke the first woman, earning her silence from the other two.

"Yeah," Said the second very slowly, "The guy in jet black, reflective armor is a town guard, like those men in leather with green capes. _Sure_."

"W-Well, I don't know!"

"You're just scared of him, here, watch!" The boy, despite the warning of his comrades, walked over to DT-227. Silently cursing the slow worker, he let the boy approach.

"Excuse me, sir!" He loudly, and pompously announced. DT-227 turned, slowly, to look down at the boy. Immediately, the young man seemed to have realized how bad an idea this was as he looked up into the soulless eyes of DT-227's helmet.

"What?" He asked, ensuring his voice was dripping with as much danger or unspoken threats as humanly possible. The boy, somehow, managed to pale further as he retreated a pace. As he seemed on the verge of soiling himself, one of the girls jogged over, a bow slung over her back.

"What my friend was meaning to ask, Mister… Titan… Golem… Guy… Is that we would like to hire you," She stated with confidence her friend lacked, though it was clear that she was uneasy, looking up at his helmet. When he didn't respond, she continued.

"We are adventurers, Porcelain ranked and had a tank that ditched out on us. We're clearing a cavern filled with gods know what, buy _some_ of us don't want to go in without someone who can tank damage. We were hoping you would be willing to help us?"

"Not interested," DT-227 said immediately, turning and accepting the bag containing his purchase from the employee. This floored the archer, who opened and closed her mouth for a few moments before getting her wits back about her.

"B-But, wait, you haven't even heard our offer."

"Not interested," He repeated, making to walk away and head back to the inn.

"We'll pay you three gold!" He paused, halfway between steps.

DT-227 turned, slowly, to face the company of three. The other two had paled significantly at the declaration, which had come from the last of their group. She had short, mousy hair with deep chocolate eyes. She seemed to fall in on herself, now that she was the center of attention from the Deathtrooper, but held strong.

"And a cut of whatever loot we find!" She added, evidently taking his silence as pressing for her to add more. He cocked his head to one side before moving it to the other, thinking. The gold would be nice and certainly, give them a bit more breathing room. Plus, loot could be sold. It was about time he put Governesses self-proclaimed silver tongue to use, anyways.

"Fine. Pay upfront, meet me in front of the inn, dawn." He listed off the orders quickly and cooly, sounding ever like the battle-hardened and soulless soldier as he didn't any time he wasn't with Governess. Hell, even when he was still abrasive, it was just with a humorous or sarcastic touch.

The girl walked up, past her silent comrades, and handed over the gold coins. Their hands touched briefly as he accepted them, her hand being retracted as if he had bitten her.

"Dawn," He repeated.

"Dawn," She affirmed with a nod. Leaving it at that, DT-227 walked away, tucking the coins away for later use. As he walked, DT-227 debated whether he should inform Governess on his work in the morning. He decided, with a scoff, that such an idea was horrible. She, an untrained child, would be nothing more than an anchor to which he was tethered as he fought to defend his… Well, employers. She simply didn't have any combat skills, meaning he would have to constantly watch her.

That wouldn't be possible if he had to play the role of 'tank' for this adventurers group. Having come to a decision, DT-227 walked back to their inn room as a brisk pace.

* * *

An hour after the arrival of the woman, Governess and Deathtrooper were walking to where the woman's family home was located. Deathtrooper was carrying the bottle he had bought, still in the bag. She didn't really understand the worth of things in this world, so Governess was a little dubious on how good of value the wine Deathtrooper bought was.

She was spared from having to worry about it for too long, however, as they arrived at the fairly decently sized home. Governess led Deathtrooper up to the door, knocking three times before stepping back.

Only a few moments before the door was pulled open, revealing a short woman that looked like an older version of the woman they had escorted to town. She bore a large, gleaming smile as she recognized the duo. Evidently, she was not put off by Deathtrooper, who seemed to be trying his damnedest to appear as imposing as humanly possible.

"You must be Governess and Sir Deathtrooper, please, come in! I am Caravaneer." The woman, Caravaneer, said as she stood aside, allowing them access to her humble abode. Governess stepped in, a smile of her own in place as she made a short bow to the woman. Deathtrooper followed but offered no such greeting as he observed the interior of the home like the ever-present sentinel he was.

"Thank you for having us, ma'am." Governess said, rising from her bow and removing her shoes. She noted, with some distaste, that Deathtrooper made no move to do the same. Naturally, it didn't occur to her that it required him removing the shin guards to do so, which was a bit of a hassle.

"Please, call me Caravaneer. And we owe you more than we could ever show, this pales in comparison to what you did for us." Caravaneer argued.

"We did only what any other person would," Governess told the woman, but her scowl made Governess question the validity of that statement.

"Hardly, but that isn't a discussion for here. Please, come, my husband and daughter are waiting for us in the dining room." Governess begrudged the woman changing the topic but decided to let it lie. Tonight was not about debating the efficacy of local police and anti-goblin forces, after all.

They came to the dining room where a middle-aged man and the woman awaited them. The latter rose, smiling at her comrades in travel as until a couple days ago. The man remained seated, watching the following interactions with an unreadable expression.

"Greetings again, Governess and Sir Deathtrooper. I am Clerk Girl, it is nice to finally make your _proper_ acquaintance." She said with a small curtsey.

"I think traveling with one another for several days more than grants us that." Governess stated, turning to the father who had risen at this point. He was dressed in rather plain clothing, the only odd part out being the gleaming sword at his hip. It was bizarrely ornate, given how the man was dressed and how rundown he looked, but Governess didn't comment.

"Greetings, Lady Governess, I am Guard Captain," He stated, his voice gruff and showing little emotion. He offered his hand, which Governess took. However, instead of shaking he brought her knuckles to his lips, brushing them briefly. Governess didn't show surprise at the act, assuming that as a captain of the guard, Guard Captain dealt with more regal sorts time to time.

When the man turned to Deathtrooper, however, it seemed to become a battle of wills. Both men stared the other down as if they were waiting for the other to introduce himself first. It would have been funny, given the stature difference between them, had Governess not been worried they were about to kill one another.

"So you are the man who saved my daughter and has been terrorizing my town these last few days?" Guard Captain asked, his voice only slightly scathing as he broke first. Apparently, even a hardened guard like himself was unable to last forever under the empty gaze of Deathtrooper's helmeted stare.

"Yes," Responded Deathtrooper, not even trying to deny the 'terrorizing' part of the man's observation. The staring march continued for a few more moments before Guard Captain let out a deep laugh, cutting down the tension in the room.

"Good man, I haven't seen the townsfolk this riled up since that Goblin Slayer chap showed up. Guard Captain, at your service," The man stuck out a hand, which Deathtrooper accepted after only a moment of hesitation. After a hard shake, both let go. Guard Captain subtly shook out a hand which earned Deathtrooper a glare from Governess.

"Deathtrooper," Deathtrooper seemed to have regressed back to one-word sentences, earning a silent groan from Governess. He needed to get out of that, it certainly didn't help talking and negotiating with people when the tall, intimidating man spoke like some neanderthal.

"That's a… Err… Bizarre name, Sir Deathtrooper," The father stated.

"A title, and a rather poignant one at that." Deathtrooper, with all the tact of a Stormtrooper in a shooting gallery, threatened. The father blinked, evidently trying to see if he understood the man properly. A pregnant moment passed until the man laughed again.

"I'm liking you more by the second, son! Bluntness that had been well missed, I'll tell you that much. Come, take a seat, I see you brought some wine. Why don't we have a few glasses and talk while the food finishes?"

And that was how the group of four, Caravaneer jumped back and forth between the kitchen, became seated at the table. The bottle was poured into five glasses. Perhaps it had been her acclimation to the expensive liquors of the Empire, but Governess rather disliked the bottle Deathtrooper had bought. Guard Captain seemed to drink it like water, and even Clerk Girl seemed to be enjoying it. Deathtrooper, on the other hand, had no touched his glass nor even glanced at it.

"So where are you two from, anyway?" Asked Guard Captain conversationally, setting his glass down and eyeing the duo.

"We're-"

"Classified," Interrupted Deathtrooper immediately, earning a glare from Governess and a bemused look from Guard Captain.

"What I was _trying to say_ is that we are from a land far away from here, but I am not _liberty to tell you where,_ " Governess ground out, clearly annoyed as she glared at Deathtrooper. The trooper merely returned her stare from the depths of his helmet.

Guard Captain and Clerk Girl shared a small, amused glance at one another before the former changed the subject.

"I see, so am I allowed to ask where you are going?" Governess stopped glaring at Deathtrooper and turned back to Guard Captain, a smile replacing her scowl.

"At the moment, we are just traveling around. We have the means to be self-sufficient, so, for now, we don't have a set goal or work." Guard Captain nodded slowly in response, pouring himself another glass. He glanced over at Deathtrooper's glass, which was still full and untouched.

"Are you going to drink, Sir Deathtrooper?" The man asked innocently.

"No," Came the blunt answer from Deathtrooper, who didn't elaborate. Guard Captain cleared his throat, looking as if he was starting to find inviting the two of them to be a bad idea.

"Have you a restroom?" Asked Deathtrooper out of the blue.

"Err… Down the hall on the right."

"Thank you," And with that, the infuriating man left. No one spoke until they heard the door to the restroom close. When the door snapped shut, Guard Captain wasted no time in interrogating Governess.

"Is he always like that?" The man asked, sounding genuinely worried for her. Governess chuckled, waving her hand while sounding exasperated at the same time.

"It's a toss-up. Sometimes he acts human, other times he plays his bodyguard part a little too seriously, especially when I'm involved," Governess explained with a small laugh.

"Well, now I see what some townsfolk meant by him being a little… _Threatening._ I mean, he just opening threatened me here at my own dinner table."

"He… Does that," Governess explained with a sigh, "I don't know what's scarier, the fact that he does it or the fact that he could likely carry through on any threat he makes."

"How's that?" Guard Captain suddenly looked very interested, leaning forward with a gleam in his dark eyes. Governess debated how much to tell him when an idea came to her head. She had no idea how long they would be in town, Deathtrooper was being either very vague with his plans or had none. If she explained a few of Deathtroopers more… _Extreme_ feats, then it might spread to more nefarious sorts and ward them away from her when she was alone. While she had yet to be harassed, the stares and hungry glares she sometimes earned while walking around town was enough for her to want to strike some fear into their hearts.

"Deathtrooper is one of many Deathtroopers, a collection of our most vicious agents and soldiers. They are trained and raised from an early age to be perfect killing machines. Why, before he was ordered to protect me, Deathtrooper has just gone with a group of his kin to wipe out an entire fortress of turncoats and bandits. There were six or seven of them and they suffered no casualties. Sometimes, when he acts human, I forget what he's capable of…" She said with a false shake of her head, sounding slightly sorrowful. A look of deep concentration fell upon the man's face, but he didn't have time to ask any more questions as the trooper in question returned, followed shortly by the mother with the meal.

* * *

A couple hours later, Deathtrooper and Governess were walking silently back to the inn. They walked past the owner, who didn't acknowledge them, and into their room. It was there Governess struck, slapping the back of the man's helmet. While his head barely moved, the point was made.

"What's your problem?!" Governess demanded, stemming his fists into her hips and glaring up into his helmet, "Why do you find it necessary to threaten everybody that so much as looks in my general direction?!"

"It is my job to protect you, warning them ensures that any ideas they may get are halted quickly," Defended Deathtrooper, his voice slightly distorted by the helmet but still capable of getting emotion across.

Or should she say lack of emotion?

Governess knew that tone of voice and way of talking, it was his way of saying: 'I'm sorry, but I'm not going to stop'. She sighed, shaking her head and walking over to the restroom.

"You are insufferable!"

* * *

The sound of movement was what roused her the following morning, pulling Governess from her dream about who knows what.

Governess blinked her eyes open, staring at the barely illuminated ceiling of the room she shared with Deathtrooper. Wondering if what she had heard was just a figment of her imagination, she sat up and stretched with a small whimper as her relaxed muscles were forced into action. She turned, looking towards the front door where Deathtrooper was standing. He was, quietly, trying to pull his heavy blaster over his back.

"Hmm… What're you doin'?" She asked tiredly, yawning and looking out the window. The sun had just barely risen above the distant horizon.

"Err… Going out." He said as nonchalantly as possible, which was Governesses first clue that something was awry, Deathtrooper was never nonchalant. She narrowed her eyes, suddenly a little more awake as she glared at the trooper.

"What are you doing?" She repeated a little more force in her voice. Deathtrooper turned, making eye-contact with Governess. His face was hidden beneath his helmet, meaning whatever expression he held was hidden from view.

"I found work." He stated, and it hurt Governess that he thought that would suffice and she would just let him leave.

"And? What work."

"Err… More mercenary in nature." Her glare made what she thought about him purposely dodging the question. A battle of wills ensued, one that she won.

With a deep sigh, he explained.

"I've been hired by a trio of 'adventurers' to clear out a cavern for a few gold coins, nothing more." Governess nodded slowly, the hurt growing that he was willing to sneak away.

"Oh… Okay, when do we leave?" She asked, not intending to let him get away that easily.

"I'm leaving now- What?" He seemed to suddenly realize what she had said. Deathtrooper rounded on her, and while she could not see his face she could almost hear the gears in his head turning.

"No." It was a blunt, no-argument tone that caught her off guard.

"What?" It was her turn to be stunned into being unable to formulate a response.

" _No._ " He repeated, his voice becoming hard with only a hint of worry. The worry was lost on Governess, her anger rising.

"What do you mean 'no'?!"

"I am not letting you come with me into that cavern where there are goblins and who knows what else!" He snapped, anger overcoming worry. Governess narrowed her eyes, kicking her legs over the bed and standing. She closed the distance, glaring up into his helmet.

"You aren't _letting_ me do anything, Deathtrooper! Whether you like it or not, we are partners in this and partners work together. Where you go, I go, end. Of. Story." She punctuated each of her last three words with a jab to his chestplate.

"I am not bringing you! I can't be there to protect you the entire time while watching them!" His temper snapped in a rare show, the usually stoic Deathtrooper's voice rising with anger. It seemed, the louder he got the more distorted it became through the helmet. He sounded less human and more like the denizen of hell his armor made him seem. Even as he advanced Governess did not falter. A lesser person would cower under such righteous anger coming from a man of Deathtrooper's stature, but through pure stubbornness, she glared up into his helmet.

"That's it, then? You think I'm some defenseless little flower that you need to defend like knights of old?" She ground out slowly, dangerously. When he didn't respond, she had her answer.

"Damn it, Deathtrooper, you think I would be spouting off about us being partners if I couldn't do a thing to protect myself?! I'm basically Imperial royalty, I may not be special operations, but I can still defend myself. I've spent the better part of the last decade being involved in hunts and sport shootings, for goodness sake. Just give me your pistol and I'll be more than capable of protecting myself." She demanded, holding out one delicate hand.

"This isn't some sport shooting, Governess," He tried to argue, but she was resolute.

"You think I don't know that? I've seen what creatures around here are capable of, it nearly happened to me. What happens if you die, Deathtrooper, if there is a time in which you can't protect me?" He didn't respond, still staring down at her. She held up her hand again, and he finally obliged.

"Stay behind me at all times, don't let yourself get caught out in the open." Governess let out a smile, getting used to the weight of his holdout blaster. The man removed his holster, handing it over as well.

"Thank you," She said with a dip of her head. He didn't respond aside from grumbling under his breath, turning back to the door.

"Get dressed, we'll be waiting in front of the inn." He ordered, leaving the room and shutting the door behind him. Governess felt excited in spite of the probable danger that they would face in the cavern. Not only did he trust her enough, never mind that he didn't have a choice, but they would likely be killing more of those goblin creatures, creatures that she had a certain hatred of now.

She quickly gathered the rest of her outfit, having slept in the underclothing, and dashed out the door after ensuring the blaster was properly fixed to her belt.

Governess dashed out of the room and down the stairs. Deathtrooper and three other people awaited her outside, all turning at the sound of her hurried steps.

"Who's this?" Asked the boy of the group, who seemed to be looking her up and down with a certain perverse gleam in his eye. This earned him a slap in the back of the head from one of the women, who had a bow strung over her back.

"I am Governess," She stated with a small bow. They all showed shock, looking at one another briefly before introducing themselves.

"I am Marksman, resident archer, and thinker of this little band." Said the first woman, who looked no older than Governess herself. She made a deep bow.

"I am Shaman, group healer, and spell caster, a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Governess." The other woman, adorned in deep brown robes, stated with a soft voice and accompanying bow. The last, the boy who had made such a show of checking her out, bowed as well.

"And I am Swordsman, a pleasure, m'lady." He purred with false charisma that earned him another slap from Marksman. All eyes turned to Deathtrooper, who was still standing like the intimidating sentry he was. Realizing they were all waiting on him, he spoke.

"I'm Deathtrooper." The other three flinched at the name.

"Err… T-That's a… Cool name."

"It's a title, and-" He started, but was interrupted by Governess.

" _It is pretty accurate._ Honestly, Deathtrooper, if you're going to threaten people, then can you at least come up with something original to say?" The three adventurers turned their attention onto her, clearly surprised she was confident enough to talk to someone like Deathtrooper in such a manner.

"What? Oh, don't let the armor fool you. He is just a big puppy on the inside!" She announced, patting his chest plate with on hand while smiling broadly at the adventurers. Their surprise, somehow, only grew.

Deathtrooper, Governess assumed, was clearly regretting not just sedating her.

"Anyways, where's this cave we've been hired to help you clear?"

"R-Right, follow us." Swordsman said with a small stutter, looking equal parts impressed and attracted. Apparently, the ability to pull a titan of a man to heel was an attractive trait to this boy.

The group moved silently, led by Swordsman and tailed by Deathtrooper and Governess.

"Was that entirely necessary?" Asked Deathtrooper in a hushed tone.

"Yes, I would rather not have to fight in a confined area when these people are already terrified of you. Best make them think you are some sort of emotional pin-cushion then dance around you like you are set to explode," Deathtrooper stared down at her with what she assumed was an incredulous expression. Governess rolled her eyes and amended, "Okay, but if they _think_ it…"

The group left the town under the tired eye of the night watch, heading into the forest in the direction of a small mountain.

The only sounds in the forest, excluding their footsteps, were the occasional twitter of birds and snapping of nearby undergrowth.

Governess, however, listened to each of the footsteps of their bizarre band. The lightest was hers, though that might be thanks to her soft-soled shoes. She was followed, surprisingly, by Deathtrooper who, despite his stature, walked very lightly and seemed to avoid every twig and branch in his way. Shaman and Swordsman, on the other hand, seemed to stumble into every bush and branch, making quite a sum of noise. Marksman walked pretty lightly, but unlike Deathtrooper she did not have her guard up and did not step fearing ambush at any moment.

Then again, Deathtrooper was special operations, it was natural to fear being so out in the open when headed into combat.

 _Knowing him, the time she cleared that goblin cave was done without them even knowing he was there._

They reached the cave's opening, naturally, it was just a dark hole in the ground. The opening was low, just slightly taller than Governess.

"Here it is, I'll take point!" Swordsman, with a wink at Governess, stepped in while unsheathing his sword.

"W-Wait, what was the point of hiring Sir Deathtrooper, then?" Demanded Marksman, following closely behind him with a scowl set on her face.

"G-Guys, wait up!" Shaman cried, diving into the dark depths after her comrades. That left just Deathtrooper and Governess, who was torn between laughing and wondering if this was a poor choice. Luckily, Deathtrooper voiced her grievances.

"We are all going to die," He growled, adjusting the blaster held in his hands. Governess laughed, drawing her own and keeping it aimed at the ground in front of her.

"Oh, come on, Deathtrooper. I'm sure they have some skill, after all, you can't think lowly of everyone who isn't as skilled as you are in combat."

"I can and will."

"Does that include me?" She asked with false hurt. This earned the young woman a glare from the helmeted soldier.

"I do not think lowly of you for that reason alone, but for a multitude of other as well." He bit out, kneeling down and slipping into the cavern. Governess chuckled before following as well. She tried to will her eyes to adjust to the dim inside.

Once they did, she found that rest of their party hadn't gone too far. They were all gathered at the entrance, the two women telling off the boy who was trying to look indignant. Deathtrooper, however, was looking towards the ceiling. Governess did the same, finding it looking like a normal cave, albeit with a very high roof. It was, at least, twice as tall as Deathtrooper was.

"What's the problem, Deathtrooper?" Governess asked as she approached, still looking up but not finding what had enamored him so.

"The ceiling, why is it so high?" He asked, earning her confused glance.

"Pardon?"

"Goblins are no bigger than a child, why is their cave so vast?"

"Probably a hob in here somewhere, nothing we can't handle." Swordsman announced proudly, thrusting his sword upwards. The other two backed off, clearly fearing he may cleave some vital parts in his excitement.

"Hob?" Repeated Deathtrooper.

"A really tall goblin, maybe around your height, Sir Deathtrooper." Explained Marksman, stopping her scowling at Swordsman.

"I have fought a hob, then, and the cave was not near this size."

"I think you worry too much, Deathtrooper."

"I sense a trap." He responded, turning to face her.

"You're paranoid about the families of people we save, Deathtrooper. Anything this cave holds we can handle well enough." Reasoned Governess, understanding where Deathtrooper was coming from but finding that sometimes he went a little far.

"Those sound like famous last words." Deadpanned the trooper, but he obliged by walking ahead into the deep darkness of the cavern. Shaman, Governess, and Marksman all shared small smiles, Deathtrooper was rather intense.

Swordsman, evidently not sensing the danger in angering the man, jumped ahead.

"Don't worry, Sir Deathtrooper, I'll lead the way!" He proudly announced with another wink at Governess. When the boy looked away, the young woman rolled her eyes at the boy's two companions. Shaman gave a shy shrug while Marksman simulated vomiting.

"Hmm." Answered Deathtrooper, sounding as if the very idea of such a thing was idiotic. However, the trooper obliged the little idiot, who marched ahead as if they had already cleared the cavern.

As he loudly discussed how he was going to deal with the goblins, Swordsman led them down a spiral of the cavern.

"Then I'll drive my sword in and twist, like this," The boy made a twisting motion in the air with his sword, "Before dragging it out and saying-"

But they were spared from whatever inane comment he was about to make. Deathtrooper grabbed his right shoulder and threw the boy aside.

"Agh- What in the nine hells is your-" The boy started, but a glint in the darkness drew his attention. An arrow darted out, slamming into Deathtrooper's chestplate and shattering. Governess raised her pistol, firing where it had come from. The bolt illuminated the cavern briefly, showing numerous goblins at the end of the path armed with a number of tools. While she missed the archer, Governess managed to hit one of their number, putting it down.

"Goblins, dead ahead!" Snapped Deathtrooper as he took a knee, raising his heavy blaster rifle. A moment of silence lasted before all hell broke loose.

The rifle roared to life, drowning out any and all other sounds as dozens of bright red blaster bolts hurtled down range. The goblins were cut down in an instant, all while the three adventurers watched on with a mix of terror and amazement.

After no more than a second, Deathtrooper rose. He slung the blaster over his back once more, opting for its smaller cousin.

"Clear. You four will need light, stay behind me at all times and only provide covering fire or fight any that get too close. Any large threats will be dealt with by me. Is that understood?"

"Y-Yes!" They all agreed, most not truly understanding what they had just witnessed.

"Good, now let's move!" The soldier took over, and somehow that made Governess feel slightly safer.

As Shaman chanted something under her breath, Deathtrooper prowled forward. He was slightly crouched over his blaster, staring into the darkness. They passed the fallen bodies of the goblins, many quite literally shredded by the hail of fire.

"Y-Yikes!" Exclaimed Marksman as she studied the remnants of the corpses.

"What is that he's using?" Swordsman, his usual arrogance briefly pushed back, asked as he eyed the weapon slung on Deathtrooper's back.

"A weapon from our home." Was all Governess said as she jogged to catch up with Deathtrooper, wishing to put some distance between her and the smoldering corpses.

Eventually, the others caught up, followed by what seemed to be a miniature sun.

"What…?" Asked Governess, who was staring at the floating sun with suspicion.

"Sorry, my connection to the sky goddess was severed somewhat when we went underground, otherwise I would have gotten it up sooner." Apologized Shaman, not that it answered Governess's question in any way. She just shook her head, deciding dealing with the headache that was Deathtrooper was bad enough within itself than having to deal with whatever caused the creation of a miniature, seemingly sentient, sun.

"Okay… Whatever…" She turned to Deathtrooper, about to point it out to him when she found the soldier had taken a knee, again.

"Hobs," The Deathtrooper stated, his blaster raised.

"A Hob? We can take it." Swordsman announced proudly.

"Not Hob, Hobs," Repeated Deathtrooper, and from the depths of the darkness came not one, but five of the 'hobgoblins'. Governess sucked in a breath, each of them was roughly as tall as Deathtrooper with bulging arms, legs, and guts. Each of them held a heavy weapon in their hands, hungry glares sent towards her and the other two women.

"F-Five hobs?!" Swordsman stated, stepping back reflexively. The beasts roared, charging the small group with their weapons raised. Deathtrooper and Governess fired, the latter of the two reflexively. As her bolt spiraled off into the darkness, both of Deathtrooper's put down a pair of the monsters. An arrow found its way into the skull of a third, but two closed the gap. Deathtrooper rose to his feet, freeing a knife from his belt and meeting one of the goblins halfway. That left just one for the four remaining party members to face.

It advanced on Shaman, who was cowering as it raised its sword. It was Swordsman, however, that intervened as the others seemed to freeze. He yelled, thrusting his sword into the lower part of its side. The monster roared, batting him and the sword away with a vicious backhand. It turned back to Shaman, but Governess seemed to finally get her arm to respond. A flash of red sent it stumbling into the wall, where it died.

The group turned their eyes to Deathtrooper, finding the butchered carcass of the hobgoblin he had been fighting, though it couldn't exactly be recognized as such.

"Let's move," He stated without a hint of exhaustion in his voice as if the fight had not happened despite the blood running down his armor and coating his knife, which he was cleaning off on the mesh beneath.

Deathtrooper scooped up his blaster and walked on, sparing the others a mere glance, likely to see if they were still alive.

"Wow." Marksman murmured, staring at Deathtrooper with a mix of emotions on her face.

"I've never seen someone take apart a hobgoblin that easily, with a knife no less…" Shaman agreed, trying her hardest not to stare at the carcass. Swordsman had no insightful comment, instead staring at the body with a mix of wonder and disgust. Governess, not wanting to be left behind by the one person seemingly capable of taking down goblins with little trouble, jogged after Deathtrooper.

She caught up, but as she expected, he didn't even acknowledge her existence.

Soon after the others caught up, the group came a bizarre end to the main cavern. It led into a far more expansive system with an unknown light bathing the place in a mysterious blue hue. The group came to the end of a cliff, staring down into the deep dark depths of a pit. Wide stairs seemed to circle around the interior, landings appearing every quarter revolution.

Shaman let in a terrified breath as she peered down. At first, Governess assumed she had a phobia of heights, but then she spoke.

"This isn't some normal cavern," She stated with a shaking in her voice, "This is a dungeon!" Marksman and Swordsman gasped, evidently that name having some meaning other than 'prison' to them. All three twisted to look at the entrance, joined by a confused Governess and likely confused Deathtrooper. The entrance was _quickly closing_ , two massive doors closing in from the walls.

Before anyone could speak, Deathtrooper cleared the distance between them and the door. However, just as he reached it, it sealed shut.

"Oh no, please goddess, no," Cried Shaman, sinking to her knees as tears began to form in her eyes. Swordsman swore, stomping off to one side of the platform they were standing on. Marksman seemed in shock, hugging her bow to her chest as she stared at Deathtrooper and the door. Deathtrooper put his head to the wall, one fist clenched and being held to the stone as he, probably, thought.

A few minutes of silence passed, punctuated by the sobs of Shaman as she held her face in her hands. Governess, perhaps due to her shock, was waiting for Deathtrooper to speak or do something.

Eventually, he moved, raising his head to stare at the wall.

"I can't tear this wall down without taking half the cavern with it… You, Shaman, tell me everything you know about dungeons!" He ordered, his voice harsh and making it clear that he would take no nonsense. The woman in question, looking more like a small, scared girl, merely stared up at him in fear. Deathtrooper approached her, and before Governess had any idea what was going on, he had her lifted up by the scruff of her robes with one hand.

"Listen, and listen, well girl, this is not the time to lose your head! We are trapped here, and if we are to escape the prison _alive_ , then you will tell me everything you know about this place! Unless," He turned her head towards Marksman, who paled and shook her head. He looked towards Swordsman, who was watching the exchange from afar. When the boy also shook his head, his empty eyes were turned back to the shaking Shaman.

"So that leaves _you_. Now answer me!" He needed no threats, his distorted voice was a threat within itself. Governess wanted to intervene, to help the poor girl, but her legs didn't dare move. She had never seen Deathtrooper truly enraged like this. Who he was blaming for this was beyond her, but for now, the ire was pointed towards the one the most blameless of the group.

"Okay, okay! Cried the young woman, staring into the emptiness of his helmet with tear-filled eyes, "Please…" Without a word, he set her down and took a step back. The woman took a moment to compose herself before speaking.

"Dungeons are remnants from an ancient war between the demons and heroes of old, long before the Demon Lord. After the war, the Demon Lord of the time was destroyed, but his generals were much harder to kill. The Heroes locked them away in deep labyrinths defended by the knights that had died to contain them. There have been no…" She choked back a sob, "No confirmed accounts of survivors entering one."

She knew her heart should sink at such a declaration, but it didn't. Governess spared a glance at Deathtrooper, and despite his rather heavy-handed handling of the situation, she smiled.

After all, those parties evidently did not have special operations with them.

"Then that changed. Rest, all of you," Deathtrooper ordered the group before walking to the edge of the cliff. Marksman quickly ran up to her crying friend, comforting her silently. Governess walked past them, after Deathtrooper. He was standing at the edge, messing with some orb that he had pulled from his belt.

"Was that truly necessary?" Asked Governess when she reached him, watching he threw the orb in the dark depths. It slowed itself and began to gently drift downwards.

"If she, and by extension, them, are afraid of me then they are not prepared for what we find here," Deathtrooper stated, staring down the steps below them, "That, and she was in no position to tell me anything."

"You know, threatening everyone and everything we meet will bite you in the arse someday."

"Highly unlikely, but if it lets you sleep at night…" He murmured, kneeling and tapping the side of his helmet, "Go, rest, I'm scouting ahead."

Figuring he was using the binoculars built into his helmet, Governess obliged. Just when she was getting used to not being marched place to place...

* * *

DT-227 rose from his vigil at the cliff face, a scowl set into his face. He had spent the last hour, which was what it took for the orb to drop to the bottom, spying what awaited them ahead.

The goblins alone on the first few levels would expend most of the heavy blaster rifle's ammunition. The skeletal soldiers would be a pain, likely hard to hit with blasters. He was skilled when it came to close quarters combat, but even he could be overwhelmed.

He was going to need a weapon better than a combat knife.

He walked back to the group, who were all seated in a circle off to one quarter. He tried to remember the boy's name for a few moments before it came back to him.

"Swordsman, come here." He ordered, putting a bit of force into his voice. The boy rose, scrambling over with a slightly apprehensive look on his face. DT-227 couldn't help but to smirk under his helmet, it seemed he had made quite the impression upon them.

"Can you recognize a goblin camp?" DT-227 asked, earning a jump from Swordsman.

"Err… Yes?" DT-227 pulled out a small holo-communicator synced with his helmet. He activated it, earning a surprised gasp from Swordsman. A small, blue hologram of the camp that his sensor orb had picked up in its descent.

"W-What is this thing?" Asked Swordsman, still floored by the communicator.

"Unimportant, is this a camp?" DT-227 shook the communicator, waving the hologram under Swordsman's eyes.

"O-Oh… Err… It looks like one. I mean, it's different than looking at them in pictures from underground… That looks like a shaman hut." He indicated to one of the buildings.

"Shaman's hut?" Repeated DT-227, eyeing the woman he had interrogated earlier.

"No, a Goblin Shaman, a magic user," Swordsman explained, scratching his cheek in thought.

"Magic?" Asked DT-227 incredulously, he had figured the orb of light Shaman was using had been the act of some sort of local technology, but magic?

"Yes, offensive sorts, I think…" Evidently, Swordsman had not caught the scorn in DT-227's voice. The idea was laughable at best, magic? He knew this planet was backward, but not _that_ backward.

"Huh." He offered noncommittally, changing the hologram, "What about these skeletons?"

"Not much is known about the defenders of dungeons, but if they are anything like skeleton warriors then they are fast, strong, and hard to hit."

"For someone who has been playing the part of an incompetent, overconfident buffoon, you seem pretty knowledgeable about the monsters."

"Err…" Swordsman spared a glance back at the others, who were all silently speaking, before leaning in, "I wasn't always 'Swordsman'. I was … Junior Researcher back at Frontier Town, about monsters. Not many women find brains all that attractive, see?"

"That is possibly the dumbest reason I have ever heard in my life," Deadpanned DT-227, earning self-deprecating sigh from Swordsman.

"Yeah…"

"Very well, I am impressed by this revelation, boy. Do not disappoint me in future," DT-227 replaced the holo-communicator on his belt, but before Swordsman could walk away, "One more thing."

"Hmm?"

"If you ever look at Governess the way you have since you have met her," DT-227's voice became low and conversational, "I will rip your eyes out and force feed you them, am I understood?"

"Y-Yes, Sir Deathtrooper."

"Good to know we are on the same page, everyone up!" He barked, getting the attention of the other three, "I want to make it past as many platforms as possible today. Each one is defended by either goblins or skeletons, so be wary and don't charge ahead." Everyone rose, looking up at him.

 _Time to see if that officer training was worth it._

"Let's move!"

"Yes, Sir Deathtrooper!" Chorused three of them. Governess merely eyed him with amusement, but she followed him without a word.

* * *

The first three platforms were bypassed without trouble, the goblins target practice for Marksman. Their bows lacked the range hers did, nor were they as accurate. Any goblins trying to attack first had to charge up the stairs to reach them, which left them exhausted and easy pickings.

"Good work, Marksman," Complimented DT-227 as the girl dispatched the last of the goblins on the forth platform. The girl in question jumped, looking up at him with a mix of exhaustion and joy, evidently it was some sort of reward to her; him complimenting her.

"Thank you, Sir Deathtrooper." She bowed her head as a faint tinge appeared on her cheeks, further confusing DT-227. He shrugged, walking ahead with his blaster in hand. He had, thankfully, not had to fire a shot since they started going down.

He heard her quietly arguing with Swordsman, but decided to ignore it. So long as they were able to keep their guard up then he didn't care.

"We'll camp here for a few hours," He stated, kicking a still living goblin over the edge of the cliff. Its death cries were heard by all other goblins the entire way down.

"Yes, Sir Deathtrooper!" Chorused the non-Governess members. He gave a brisk nod and continued he patrol through the bodies of goblins, dispatching survivors as he found them.

* * *

"Well, aside from Marksman apparently fancying him, what is everyone else's thoughts on Deathtrooper?" Asked Governess, wishing to get the imminent conversation. The reactions were instant and amusing. Swordsman's lips curled up into a smile as he peered over at his friend, Shaman looked confused and scared, while Marksman blushed and looked indignant.

"I've nothin' of the sort!" She retorted, crossing her arms and glaring at Governess. Governess gave a noncommittal shrug, laying down with her legs cross and arm supporting her head. She watched as Deathtrooper continued to dispatch goblins, usually by using their own dropped weapons.

"I have a question," Swordsman, sparing his friend any more embarrassment, spoke, "Is he a monk or something?"

"Monk?" Repeated Governess, sitting back up and supporting her weight on one arm, "Well, he's hardly religious…"

"Religious?" Repeated Marksman, her blush gone, "No, monk as in he punches things. I've never seen a person armored up fight hand-to-hand like that."

"Err… I guess if that's what you call his type. From where we come from, we call him 'special operations'."

"Special operations?" Repeated Shaman, her fear replaced by curiosity. Governess noticed all of them sitting closer, clearly wanting to know more about the one they were following.

"Special forces, elite soldiers trained in all forms of combat. He was one of a squad tasked with protecting me. There was a myth from where I come from that they aren't even human, just…" Governess paused, thinking a better word than machine, "Creatures."

"Is he?" Asked Marksman.

"Pardon?"

"Is he a creature?" There was a desperation in her voice that brought a wry smile to Governesses face.

"No, he's human… Sometimes." As relief flooded Marksman's face, Swordsman asked another question.

"What do you mean 'sometimes'?"

"Deathtrooper, or the Deathtroopers, are not volunteer soldiers or even conscripts in the traditional sense. They are taken from their families at an early age before being augmented and altered to become perfect weapons of the… Our home. They are raised without compassion, with only a single-minded obsession, service. He had been becoming more human over the last few weeks, but sometimes he relapses. Especially when anyone comes within twenty meters of me."

"Is that an exact measurement or an example?" Asked Swordsman with a small frown.

"It's an understatement," Came Deathtrooper's voice, drawing the eyes of them all as he walked over. The others had the grace to look embarrassed to be talking about Deathtrooper behind his back, but Governess was not so foolish. He had likely heard every word spoken between them, "I am, however, limited in the ways in which I am allowed to protect her."

"Three rules," Governess stated, holding up three fingers, "Rule one; no killing anyone who looks at me. Rule two; no killing anyone who comes near me. Rule three; no purposely keeping me uninvolved!" When she finished, she put down her last finger and smiled up at Deathtrooper.

"I have no recollection of these 'rules'." Deathtrooper ground out, digging into one of his pouches.

"Yeah, because I just made them up."

"Ah. here, everyone eat. In four hours, we head out again." He threw down four wrapped ration bars, and already Governess felt her stomach roll.

The reactions to eating the foul bars were expected.

* * *

DT-227 granted them six hours over four, mostly because Governess forced him to rest as well. After that, the group set out to continue dealing with goblins that crossed their path. The further they got, the more goblins they were forced to face.

Eventually, a day later, the group found the goblin's camp. DT-227, instead of having them face it, pulled out a dark grey canister from his belt. Using an attachable grenade launcher, he launched the canister from the heavy blaster rifle, coating the camp in a white cloud.

They could hear the screams and smell the burning flesh of the goblins, shocking all in the party save DT-227.

"White Phosphorus," He stated absently, setting back on one of the seats, "Very dangerous."

When they walked through the camp, it was a mess. Shaman was made sick by the show, especially when they found the remains of the children.

"Some use that shaman was." Swordsman muttered, pinching his nose as he glared at the charred corpse of the goblin shaman. The group pressed on, taking out two more landings of goblins before resting for a little.

It was then that they met the skeletal warriors. They were far too quick for the blasters and arrows the group had, but Swordsman and DT-227 were more than capable of dispatching them with close range combat. Swordsman showed at least a basic understanding of the blade while DT-227 merely used his fists to destroy the beasts.

Another two days passed by in a blur as the group became a well-oiled killing machine. If they weren't already desensitized to death when facing the goblins, then the uninitiated of their group became when hearing the terrifying death screams of the skeletons.

The final one at the bottom of the steps from the last platform fell with a vicious scream, dressed in stained, white armor.

"If I never see another skeleton again," Growled Swordsman, who drew his sword from the pile of bones with a scowl, "I will die happy."

"Well, this seems to be the last of them, so I don't think you have much to worry about." Marksman muttered, walking close behind with her bow slung over her back. The rest of the party weren't far behind, DT-227 taking the very back while manipulating a few of the buttons on his arm. The sensor orb was nearby, likely buried under the many bones and goblin bodies that had fallen down to the bottom over the past few days. He jumped down the last few steps, wading through the dead and hunting for the sensor. He had been foolish as not to set a timer, meaning he had a constant window showing bodies on his HUD.

He eventually found where it had been hidden, kicking aside the bloodied remains of a rotting goblin and collecting it. Using one of the ancient uniforms worn by a ruined skeleton, it was cleaned of the filth it had been festering in for so long.

After pocketing it, the Deathtrooper returned to his party. They were all gathered at a massive door, the only way to move forward from the stairs. No one spoke, all look at him and awaiting his first move. DT-227 didn't keep them waiting, planting both his hands on the doors and pushing with all his might. The shuddered for a moment before creaking open, dragging noisily along the ground of the room beyond.

The came open the rest of the way on their own, revealing a great, circular room. It was empty save a door on the other side and a single chest, located in the very center. DT-227 stepped in first, blaster rifle raised as he looked around their immediate area. It seemed, however, there was nowhere for any skeletons to hide.

The other piled in, their own weapons raised and expecting an attack. None came, however, and the group let their guard down.

"Where is the demon?" DT-227 asked, looking around for where it might be hidden. He reached for the sensor orb, ready to toss it and find where the demon was, but he was stopped by Shaman.

"There was a battle here…" She stated, running a hand along a deep slash in the wall. After hesitating for a moment, DT-227 dropped the sphere back in his pouch and approached. The slash was deep, as wide as his forearm and twice as long as he was tall.

"What kind of creature could do this…?" He asked, running a gloved hand over the slash with deep worry and confusion.

"Does that mean someone killed it already?" Asked Swordsman as he approached the chest, stabbing his sword down into the ground and kneeling before it.

"Perhaps… But why would the goblins and skeletons be here if they did?" Swordsman shrugged at DT-227 words, breaking the lock on the chest.

"Skeletons always come back after a while and goblins migrate place-to-place. My bigger concern is there here chest… Wonder what it's doing in a place like this?"

"Oh, I know about that, they put the armor and weapons of the fallen heroes that died to that demon, as a taunt to it that it was trapped!" Exclaimed Shaman like a student answering the question of a teacher.

"Why would it still be here, then-" DT-227 started to say, but his words were silenced as Swordsman opened the chest. The moment the top fully came open, the doors leading out on both sides slammed shut.

"It's a trap!" DT-227 yelled, bringing his blaster about, but it was too late. From the ceiling dropped a form, which landed right in front of Swordsman.

It stood well over the size of a two-story building, and though it was thin, the monster's presence exuded strength. Its legs, which were thin, pale, and ended in clawed feet, leading up to a cuirass marred in paint and designs that meant little to DT-227. The armor had six holes for limbs, each taken up by long, equally thin appendages that also ended with claws. These claws, however, each holding a sword as long as DT-227 was tall.

The head was hidden behind the helm of a smiling man, two glowing eyes behind, peering out at them.

Swordsman didn't even have a moment to cry out, one of those horrid swords ramming through his chest.

"Swordsman!" Cried Shaman as the others all watched on in horror. The demon flicked the boy from its sword, cackling evilly.

" _Bow before me, mortals, and your deaths shall be quick!"_ It roared, brandishing each of the swords as it turned slowly, staring at each in turn. DT-227 grit his teeth, raising his blaster.

"What are you waiting for?!" He squeezed the trigger as he yelled, the blaster roaring to life. Dozens of crimson bolts hurtled at the monster, ramming uselessly into its chest and head. Governess and Marksman weren't far behind, firing everything they had at the demon. Nothing seemed to work as it charged DT-227 and Shaman.

The trooper, moving faster than he had ever in his life, threw the Shaman to one side and dove to the other. A massive blade slashed where he had been a moment before, sending sparks in every which direction as it collided with stone.

" _Stop running, mortal!"_ The demon barked, swinging another blade that was avoided. As DT-227 moved, he raised his blaster and fired a few blind shots at the demon's head, once again to no avail.

 _It's going to take more than a blaster to put this thing down._

He rolled and raised the blaster again, pulling the trigger. It gave a few dull clicks.

"Out!" He yelled, tossing the weapon aside and ducking beneath a renewed assault from the demon. Its cackles were the only response their attacks earned, even as blasters singed its bones and arrows dug into their depths. Nothing seemed to harm it, to DT-227 decided to up the ante.

As he landed, the trooper pulled a thermal detonator from his hip. It activated with a small sound, ticking as its timer wore down. The demon roared, charging and raising its many blades. DT-227 wound his arm back and hurled the grenade, sending it spirally through the air as it flashed a joyous red.

But, alas, the demon was too fast. With a flash of its blade, the grenade was sent blasting away. It detonated a moment too late, blinding them all with a bright flash. The demon, clearly surprised by the show, faltered for a moment. DT-227 didn't waste his chance, pulling out a larger explosive; the Sonic Imploder.

" _I am impressed mortal, you must be a skilled alchemist as well as a warrior. You will be most useful to resurrect as a servant when demons reign once more!"_ The demon bellowed, cackling as it turned again to face DT-227. The Deathtrooper had pulled out his combat knife, tying the two together with fiber wire.

"Sorry," He growled under his breath, "I already serve one psychopathic dictator."

He ran at the demon, knife-bomb held in his right hand. The demon, with another roar, slashed violently at him with its great sabers. DT-227 was too fast, however, making it to the demon and leaping into the air. With a stab, he embedded the knife into its torso beneath the cuirass.

 _Gotcha-_

The moment of victory was silenced as white-hot pain laced through his body. One of those wicked blades thrust its way through his lower torso, between his chest plate and belt. The mesh beneath tore like paper, and the width of the blade nearly halved him.

DT-227 let out a gasp, unable to speak or even think as the pain became all his brain could comprehend. The demon flicked him from its blade, the trooper bouncing from the ground to the wall. He came to rest, shaking as the pain continued to make his nerves scream.

" _Any last words, mortal?_ " It asked, blade raised and poised to finish the job. DT-227 looked up into its eyes, his teeth grit in an attempt to stem the pain.

"See you…" He sucked in a painful breath, "In _hell._ "

A trio of beeps filled the silent air, and then silence. It was as if sound itself had vanished, followed by air. All of it dragged towards the knife and Imploder in the demon's torso.

And then, the explosion. That was the last DT-227 saw before his entire world went black.


	5. Chapter 5

**Deathtrooper**

 **Chapter 5**

 **Revelation**

* * *

It was a strange sensation, DT-227 decided, being dead. Was there supposed to be pain after the end, because he felt none from the gaping wound he had suffered in that dungeon.

The man dared open his eyes, blinded by the pure white expanse that surrounded him. He angrily rubbed his eyes, fighting down the defensive tears that tried to rise.

Blinking rapidly for a few moments, he finally felt confident enough to sit up and observe his surroundings.

Or should he say lack thereof? All around him, an infinite white expanse extended with seemingly no end, or any landmarks to speak of. It was as if he was standing upon nothing, save for the cold, hard feeling it held. It was then that the soldier realized he was no longer wearing her armor, instead in a white, though not as blindingly so, robe.

His confusion could only rise as he continued looking for any sign of where he was, but alas, there were none.

He struggled to his feet, shuddering as the cold laced its way up his bare feet.

"My, you are quite the specimen," Came a calm, melodic voice that tried, and failed, to calm him. DT-227 twisted on the spot, hand instinctively shooting for his hip where a blaster should have and would have been in any other situation.

Before him stood a… Stunning woman, the likes of which he had never seen. Truly, she was impossible to describe as his brain attempted to understand her angelic beauty. The sight made him want to fall to his knees and weep-

Wait a minute.

The soldier blinked a few times and shook his head, glaring at the woman before him.

"And who, pray tell, might you be?" He demanded, glaring at her behind narrowed eyes. The woman's porcelain face shifted into a soft smile, something that warmed his traitorous heart.

"I am no one of consequence, DT-227. You, on the other hand, are quite a bit more interesting." The woman spoke, walking now in a circle around DT-227. The soldier ensured that she stayed within his line of sight at all times before responding.

"How's that?" He asked, turning with her slow gait.

"Oh, for one you are not of this world, nor that Governess of yours. What a lovely woman she could be…" The woman before him clicked her tongue and shook her head.

"What do you mean 'could be'?" DT-227 hissed, his hand making another attempt at grabbing the blaster that didn't exist.

"I'm getting to that, DT-227. I am, however, curious," She waved away his concern before peering over at him with a curious gaze, as one would at the struggles of a lesser creature, "I can see your strength, your possibilities, but why bring you back?"

"What do you mean 'bring me back'?"

"Oh, you are still alive DT-227, if only barely. You have another thirty seconds before your heart completely fails."

"Then how is it I'm here?" Growled DT-227, his fist clenching in his anger towards this woman.

"I am a goddess, DT-227. Do not look at me with such scorn, it's true," The woman spoke serenely, even as he raised a disbelieving eyebrow, "I have extended those thirty seconds over an eternity."

"Is that so? A goddess? You know, some medical staff talked about how the last thing you brain thinks of before death is some insane way you could survive." This, however, seemed to be the wrong thing to say to the self-proclaimed goddess as her angelic features creased into a deep scowl.

"I see you are as _arrogant_ as your sponsor as well." She snapped, nails biting into her own hand. DT-227 raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms and regarding her with annoyance.

"Sponsor?"

"Oh, yes. You were supposed to die, you know." She stated the fact as if it were some well-kept secret.

"Obviously, I'm dying right now, it seems." The woman, who had been acting so serene and powerful before, stomped her food rather childishly and bit out a retort.

"Not right now, you moron! I meant when you arrived-" She sucked in a deep breath before speaking, again, in the slow, melodic tone she used before, "I mean, when you arrived there was a one in forty chance you would survive. Had the dice been cast any differently, you would have perished as your hyperdrive continued its mad trek across the galaxy. Be it crashing into a planet, or the speed evaporating the shuttle."

"How do you know all of that?!" DT-227 demanded, earning a tired sigh from the woman. She pinched the bridge of her nose, speaking in a quiet tone to herself for a moment before addressing him.

"Let us assume, for a moment, that I am truly a figment of your imagination. Then anything you know, I would know, correct?"

"Seems about right," DT-227, hesitantly, affirmed with a nod.

"Okay, as I was saying, the dice were cast in such a way that your pilot figured out the issue in time to save the surviving crew. He guided the shuttle down best he could before crashing, promptly killing him and the co-pilot. You, your officer, and Governess awake, you execute the officer and go on a merry adventure with Governess. All of this was decided by one roll of the dice," She held out her hand at this, two twenty-sided dice resting in her smooth hands, "None of us, the other gods, that is, much cared. After all, what can one man and a young woman possibly do to alter the course of history? Earth Mother," She said the name with such scorn that DT-227 felt her anger flowing through him, "Saw something in you. I don't know what, but now one of my dear followers wishes for me to save your life."

She turned her bright, turquoise eyes upon him, biting the inside of her lip as she studied his face.

"Is this the part where I beg for my life to be spared?" Asked DT-227 sarcastically, watching as her lips quirked upwards for the briefest of moments.

"It wouldn't change much, but if it pleases you… I believe Governess would suffer the most with your death, though. She acts out because you attempt to treat her like a defenseless child, but without you, she would die in a myriad of ways," She spoke quietly, looking away from DT-227.

"Stop." Groundout DT-227.

"She could be kidnapped by the less savory sorts of the town, have unmentionable things done to her…"

"Enough," He snapped, his fist shaking with renewed anger.

"Perhaps she'll survive that long, decide to avenge your death and take up your mantle. Only, she would likely die or worse as she isn't you. She wasn't trained, or augmented to be better than the average human."

"I said stop, you've made your point!" DT-227 snarled, advancing a step and drawing her amused gaze.

"I don't think I have, DT-227. You are no better than her father, expecting her to be subservient and bend to your will-"

"I have done nothing of the sort!" DT-227 yelled, ready to attack this apparition

"You have, just with less violence. You expect her to follow your every order, to bend to your every whim. She isn't a person to you, is she? She's luggage for you to keep an eye on so that no one takes it."

"I know damn well that she is human!"

"Really?" Asked the woman with false shock, "I would never have guessed! You want to protect her from emotional trauma, DT-227? So instead of preparing her for what will come in life, you hide her away and try to shield her from everything. Why? Because it's _convenient_." The words felt like a hot knife into DT-227 heart, hearing them parroted back at him once again.

"Oh, have I touched a nerve, DT-227? You pretend you care but do you really? If you cared, would you leave her without the ability to defend herself, to protect those she loves? You are not her father, I will admit that, DT-227, you haven't the heart, or lack of heart, to keep her down. You are, however, arrogant in your power. You would die here if it hadn't been my curiosity."

"So my suffering is… What, a game to you?!" Snarled DT-227, advancing another step. Yet, despite their startling difference in size, the supposed goddess did not falter nor show any sign of fear. Instead, she looked indignant, glaring up to his eyes.

"Poor, foolish boy. You haven't any idea what suffering is. It's sad, yes, what they did to you to make you a weapon. Those men, Director Krennic and Governor Tarkin, were horrid. Their ends were most amusing and ironic."

"Were?" DT-227 repeated, his anger gone for a moment, "They're dead?"

"Oh yes, both died at the foot of their own hubris, destroyed by and aboard their own weapon. That is, however, unimportant to the now. Had I my way, DT-227, you would die and Earth Mother could finally move on from her damn obsession, but the dice have been cast. I answered the prayer of my follower, now rise and fix your mistakes."

"What do you mean-" But any indignant question he might have had was silenced by a strange… Uplifting feeling in the depth of his chest. It felt as if a soft hand had gripped his heart and was lifting it up through his body.

It wasn't unpleasant, just… _Bizarre_.

And then all went black, again.

* * *

Darkness was all he could see again, making DT-227 swear internally before he realized his eyes were closed.

This moment of confusion was halted by a searing pain in his midsection, screaming its way through his entire body. Bile rose up from his stomach, forcing the man to open his eyes. He shot up, accidentally bashing heads with something over him and sending his head back to the cold ground below. He hadn't a moment to spare, however, as he sat up again and emptied his stomach on the stone to his left.

Sufficiently cleared, the trooper fell back, panting.

"Deathtrooper?" Asked a cautious voice, quiet and fearful. He opened his eyes, slowly, peering over at the trio of young woman staring at him.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," It was probably the worst possible thing he could say in response to coming, seemingly, back to life, but DT-227's brain hadn't quite caught up to the situation.

The reaction was instant. A curse came from Marksman, a scream from Shaman, and Governess basically tackled him. Her arms snaked their way around his torso as she squeezed. Somehow, in spite of his armor, her hug sent a stab of pain up DT-227 body.

"Don't. Ever. Do. That. Again." She sobbed angrily, her face buried in his chestplate. DT-227 grimaced, but put an arm on her back and patted, laying his head back down on the ground.

He was alive, somehow, some way, he had survived a wound that should have killed him. The words of the supposed goddess came back to him, pushing DT-227 to feel his lower torso, where the blade had pierced him. The mesh had been ripped through, now soaked with his blood. Underneath, however, the skin was, while stained with blood, completely unblemished.

"What… What happened?" He asked his voice still weak and showing signs of his exhaustion. Evidently, the adrenaline vanishing mixed with his severe blood loss was enough to hinder even him.

"S-Shaman. She started chanting something and there was this glow and-" Governesses voice started to shake as her emotions got the better of her. DT-227, wordlessly, hugged her to his chest, letting her tears fall freely again.

"L-Luckily I didn't use most of my miracles during the few days we've been here, so I was able to heal you… To the best of my abilities." Shaman murmured, hugging her staff close to her chest. She was kneeling nearby, next to Marksman who had her head bowed. With what emotion was beyond DT-227.

So, magic existed, then? That was the only answer he could come up with based on the circumstances, and he was too tired to truly come up with a better idea. Evidently, this was what that supposed goddess meant by someone calling her, Shaman's attempts at healing him. It was a bizarre idea to be sure, but he had been through some rather strange events these last couple of weeks.

"Shaman?" He asked, turning his head to look up at the young woman in question. It was then that he finally realized his helmet was missing but decided to worry about it later.

The young woman flinched at his words, instilling in him a sense of guilt.

"Y-Yes?"

"I'm sorry," He stated, earning a surprised look from her and a tearful chuckle from Governess, whose head was still buried in his chestplate, "On two counts. Firstly, for treating you so poorly during the first day we were here. I was angry for so foolishly walking into a trap and I had no right taking it out on you. Secondly, I am sorry for ever doubting your abilities or your magic."

"Thank you, Sir Deathtrooper, but… You never said anything about it. My miracles, that is."

He tapped the side of his head with a wry, and likely blood stained, smile.

"All up here, love-" He grunted in pain as his stomach gave an angry lurch. Governess, hearing this, sat up. Her eyes were still laced with tears and fear as she looked him up and down.

"Is something wrong?" She demanded, but he shook his head.

"I feel like I've swallowed a couple dozen searingly hot nails, but aside from that I'll live." He groaned, waving her off and struggling to sit up. His world spun around him, but he didn't lay back down. He was Deathtrooper, they had suffered far worse in training.

"The demon?" He asked, looking around for its carcass.

"After it was blown up, the body… Vanished," Shaman explained, indicating roughly where it had been prior to his near death. DT-227 nodded slowly, getting to a knee and struggling to rise to his feet. He paused for a second to catch his breath, looking over at Marksman who still had her head lowered.

"Marksman, is something wrong?" He asked with a pained hiss, waving off Governess who looked to be trying to help. The young woman lowered her head more, shaking with an emotion he could discern from-

"You absolute moron!"

Ah, anger, figures.

Marksman looked up into his eyes, a mixture of relief, anger, and worry in their blue depths as she continued.

"Why would you do that, why would you risk your life?!" She demanded, her voice cracking with emotion as Shaman and Governess flinched at her seemingly sudden anger. DT-227, on the other hand, rose an eyebrow.

"Because it is my duty-" He started but she cut him off.

"It isn't your duty, not to throw away your own life for ours!" She argued, desperation joining the whirlwind that was her emotions as she tried to get him to agree with her.

"It is, it was what I was conscripted for, trained for, and ordered to do. My final orders from my officer were to protect Governess, and by extension here, you two. If that means my death, then so be it. I will happily die to ensure she can escape or survive," He ground out.

 _But I'm not willing to train her to defend herself._

DT-227 couldn't explain his reasoning, for whatever reason he didn't want to teach her how to survive on her own, to fight like a Deathtrooper. It was some lingering fear or hesitation that he couldn't properly understand.

Marksman's emotions became unreadable for a few moments before the folded into resignation, looking slightly woeful for whatever reason.

"Come on then," She said her voice slightly quiet, "We should probably get going."

DT-227 nodded his agreement, rising fully to his feet with little more than a wince this time. The other two rose as well, silent and watching DT-227 and Marksman with apprehensive stares. He couldn't understand why, but DT-227 decided to roll with it.

When Governess offered him his helmet, DT-227 put up a hand.

"I'd rather not have to smell my own blood," He explained, "Could you hold on to it?" The young woman nodded, putting the helmet under her arm and jogging over to help Marksman with the chest. DT-227 would be carrying his own load, however. He approached Shaman, who was struggling with the body of Swordsman.

"Let me," He said quietly, kneeling down and getting his arms underneath the boy's neck and knees. Shaman nodded her thanks, stepping back and watching as DT-227 lifted her fallen friend's body. Blood still leaked from the open wound in his back, but DT-227 didn't mind the mess. It would remind him as he left whose fault it was that this young man had died. It had been his carelessness that had cost Swordsman his life.

The group moved out like a solemn funeral procession, marching out the now open door, it was easily opened with a swift kick from DT-227. They came to a flight of stairs that he, briefly, feared would go all the way back up to the top of the dungeon. Luckily, they only had to climb for about an hour before it deposited them at the bottom of a canyon of sorts.

The group didn't wait around or explore instead marching their way back to the town they had left in such high spirits. Gone for several days, the villagers had evidently expected the worst. They were shocked when the adventurers, plus two, trudged their way back into town, looking as if they had just fought a war. None approached them, watching from the sides of the main road or from their homes.

"We'll take him from here," Shaman stated, exchanging the chest for her dead friend. Marksman carried his legs while Shaman held his shoulders.

"We're going to bury him a little way out of town," She explained, watching as DT-227 picked up the chest. The man winced at the sudden change in weight but held strong. They didn't have much further to go.

"Come by the Inn at some point, we'll give you your cut," Governess told them, and it was there that the four split up, half leaving town and half dragging themselves to the inn.

The innkeeper, evidently forgetting his usually rude demeanor, looked at them with shock and slight reverence as the duo arrived. Neither he nor they said a word as the duo dragged themselves up the stairs, down the hall, and into their shared room. DT-227 set the chest down, visibly shaking the room and likely nearby rooms with the force. He gasped, relief flooding his body as he leaned down.

"You need to rest," Governess ordered, and for once he didn't feel like arguing with her. However, when the trooper made to lay down on the ground, she stopped him.

"Oh no you don't, you need proper rest, mister! You've lost a lot of blood and nearly died, you're taking the bed." Her voice made it clear she would accept no argument, sadly DT-227 was no such coward.

"Then what about you?"

"I can use a sleeping bag."

"I am perfectly fine-" It was then that nausea from his blood loss mixed with exhaustion struck him like a club to the head, nearly toppling the trooper. Governess offered a smile, indicating towards the bed.

"Sleep," She ordered before heading towards the door, "I'm going for a bath, you had better be fast asleep by the time I get back."

When the door closed, DT-227 muttered some choice words under his breath before stripping off his armor. It was all, miraculously, undamaged despite him getting speared by a massive demon.

Apparently, it had been so accurate that it was able to stab just under the armor and miss the back part of the plate as well, meeting minimal resistance.

Stripping off his blaster-resistant mesh, DT-227 found that it, much like him, had nearly been split in half. No more than an inch on either side kept the suit together. It, much like his torso, was drenched in his blood, though much of it had dried or was in the process of drying.

He looked towards the bed, namely its white sheets. Was it a good idea to sleep in the bed, covered in blood though he was? The second wave of pain and nausea made the decision for him, and he was soon in the bed and nodding off to sleep.

* * *

Governess decided that she pitied any and all medical staff that had to deal with Deathtrooper prior to her.

"I fail to see why it is necessary for me to remain in bed, I am perfectly capable-" Deathtrooper argued from where he lay, beneath the covers of the bed he had been stuck in for the better part of two days. After sleeping most of the first, he decided he was capable of moving around again. It was an hour later that found Governess walking in and finding a naked, fast asleep, Deathtrooper slouched over his blaster-resistant mesh with its repair kit in hand.

After waking him up, careful to avoid a _full_ view of his bare body, she ordered him to remain in bed until such a time that _she_ decided he was ready to move. This was, evidently, a poor idea as the man seemed to be growing more petulant with every hour.

Before noon, Governess was debating the efficacy of just using a sedative on him. Luckily, perhaps for both of them, newcomers arrived. Marksman, with a sad smile as she looked from Deathtrooper to Governess, and Shaman came by for their share. Governess, who had yet to sell the goods given that the one who could carry the chest was out for the count, recruited the duo. Given that they had, at the very least, a basic idea on the worth of the items, she led them out of the room, carrying the chest with the help of Marksman.

"I'll be gone a few hours," Called Governess to Deathtrooper, who looked to be fuming, "You better still be in that bed when I get back!"

With that, they left, marching the chest down the stairs, with some trouble, and out the door of the inn. It was likely a bizarre sight, a duo of small women marching a chest roughly their size down the street.

The trio came to a trader's shop, entering to the welcomes of the owner. Upon explaining that they were there to sell, the man eyed the chest for a moment before locking the door to his shop and leading them to a meeting room in the back.

"To what do I owe this pleasure today, ladies?" The man asked pleasantly sitting opposite them in the small meeting room. The women sat on one side, Shaman and Marksman flanking Governess with the chest behind them.

"We are here to sell some loot we obtained from a dungeon," Governess spoke clearly, holding eye contact as she folded her hands in front of her on the table. The man raised an incredulous eyebrow, studying each of them with clear disbelief in his eyes.

"A dungeon? Am I to believe that you three cleared a _dungeon_?" He asked, hints of a smile on his face as he spoke.

"Us plus two others, one of whom died," Governess stated, earning a flinch from the other two seated next to her. She offered them both an apologetic glance before looking at the trader again.

"Okay," He said, slowly, after a few moments, "I'll bite. Show me what you found in this 'dungeon' of yours."

Governess ignored his disbelieving tone, instead opening the chest and pulling out the first item. It was a cuirass, heavy and gleaming with expensive gems and gold, the only flaw being the thick coat of dust on it.

The man eyed the chestplate as she set it on the table, tentatively lifting and twisting it as he studied every minute detail. He knocked his fists a few times on the metal as he put his ear to it. A brief look of shock, something Governess would have missed had she not been paying attention and trained to study human emotion, shot across the man's face before it returned to its usual look of disinterested amusement.

"A decent set of armor, a lighter form of iron no doubt, but certainly not amazing quality. I will give you… 15 gold for it." The man was ripping them off, he knew it, Governess knew it, even Marksman and Shaman knew it. Governess pressed her lips together with a mock look of deep concentration as if she were genuinely debating his offer.

"I see… Well, it's been nice doing business with you, Mr. Trader, but we must be off."

"W-What?!" The man's mask fell Governess rose, taking the armor with her as she went. The desperate hunger in his eyes amused her to no end.

"Well, you see…" Governess held up the armor, "I may not be an expert on metals, but my compatriots here can recognize Mythril rather easily. I am in no mood to be lied to and deceived, Mr. Trader. Good day." She tossed the armor into the still open chest.

"W-Wait… Ah.. 50 gold!" He tried but was ignored by Governess, who closed the chest and made to lock it.

"100 gold!" He cried, causing her to pause. Governess turned, slowly, to face the man, a wide grin setting into her cute face.

"No we're talking, Mr. Trader. 250."

"115!"

"Come now, Mr. Trader, this isn't amateur hour. 225."

"... 175!"

"200, and not a coin lower." Governess finished, her smile broadening as she watched the man squirm.

"Hmm… Deal!" It was still less than some would have bought the armor for, but they needed money and gold, in large quantities, was good no matter where you were.

Money exchanged hands, the cuirass was turned over, and Trader leaned back with a content sigh.

"It was a pleasure doing business with you, ma'am, if that is all-"

"'If that was all'? Mr. Trader, as I said, we cleared a dungeon," Governess simpered, drawing out a greatsword from the chest, "We're just getting started."

The man looked from the blade to Governesses wide grin and he whimpered.

* * *

After nearly three hours, the negotiations were cut short due to Trader not wanting to have to sell his business to afford them. Still left with a number of items, the trio walked back to the inn, laughing the entire way.

"That was possibly the funniest thing I've seen in ages, his face when you drew out that rapier!" Marksman chuckled, her pockets jingling merrily as she walked. Governess nodded her agreement, carrying the front of the chest while Marksman held the back.

"Quite, he looked on the verge of tears when he announced he didn't have enough money left to buy what remained, quite a bit of business he lost out on, it seems." They still had a number of items left, but some of them had been specifically picked out by Governess to not sell.

When they reached her and Deathtrooper's room, she turned to them with a wide smile.

"Thank you for your help, I would have been cheated far more than that man did already had it not been for your information."

"Please, you probably would have gotten a good deal even without us," Shaman, ever the humble one, argued as she blushed under the praise.

"Still," Governess opened the chest, "I feel that we should divide up the remaining equipment."

She reached in a freed a bow reminiscent of the compound bows some people used for hunting back at home. It was sleek in design, a deep coppery color along the body. Governess handed it over to a surprised Marksman, who seemed reverent of the weapon. She held it in her hands, clearly hesitant to truly hold such a magnificent bow.

Governess smiled at the hijinks of her newfound friend, now turning to Shaman. Realizing what was going to happen, the young woman put up her hands.

"You don't need to gift me anything, Governess, I-"

"Nonsense," Governess scoffed, pulling out a staff, "You worked as hard as the rest of us to get this, you earned the money and tools." Still hesitant, Shaman accepts the staff with shaking hands before studying it. Much like her own staff, this one was a light brown color that had a small loop at the top. Attached to the loop was a dark green gem, suspended by a wire of some sort.

"T-Thank you," Squeaked Shaman, studying her new staff with teary eyes. Governess just laughed, shaking her head.

"What are you going to take out of there?" Marksman asked earnestly, putting the new bow over her back alongside her old one.

"I was thinking of giving Deathtrooper one of the swords, given that his knife was… Destroyed." Destroyed was a serious understatement, it was vaporized in the blast along with half the demon.

"What about you?" Asked the archer as she began digging around.

"Me? Oh, I can't really use any of the weapons in there, I haven't the skill." Governess chuckled, crossing her arms as her new found comrade continued her search anyways.

"Okay, then I think Sir Deathtrooper," Her tone became slightly sad for a moment or two before returning to normal, "Might prefer if you had some armor- Ah, here we go." The archer freed what seemed to be a shirt made of linked chains, basically glowing in the sunlight.

"Mithril Chainmail, basically impenetrable and very lightweight." She gave a few tosses in her hands before handing it over to Governess, who was stunned by how light it was. The armor was nearly white with hints of blue, moving like silk in her hands as she studied the individual chains.

"Created by the high elves, if my lore isn't off. Arrows, crossbows, spears, unless it has enough force behind it you'll come out unharmed."

"T-Thank you," Governess would never have thought of such a thing, not really know what the point of chainmail was.

"As you said, it's all of ours. See ya!" Marksman said, walking away with Shaman.

"I'll try to get you the rest of your cut soon," Governess called after her, earning a thumbs up from the archer before their disappeared down the stairs and into the main part of the inn. Governess let out a sigh, opening the door to their room.

Deathtrooper, while in bed like she had ordered him to be, was not sleeping. Instead, he was sitting up with his blaster-resistant mesh over his lap, slowly and precisely sowing it back together. He didn't even acknowledge her as he continued to work, clearly lost in his task.

"Didn't I tell you to get to sleep?" She asked slowly, and without putting any force into her voice, sounded dangerous. Deathtrooper's head shot up, finally noticing her standing the doorway, arms cross and eyes narrowed.

"You said to be in this bed, you said nothing about sleeping." Defended the man weakly as she pinched her nose.

* * *

The very next day, the duo returned. Governess answered the door while forcing Deathtrooper to remain in bed and _asleep_.

Marksman and Shaman stood at the door, matching smiles on their faces.

"In a couple day's time," Started Shaman, "Marksman and I are headed back to Frontier Town. We were wondering if you two wanted to accompany us? There are likely more merchants up there to buy what remains of the loot." Governess, seeing no reason not to, agreed to join them, seeing as they only had a few days left in the room as it was.

"I'll have to make sure Deathtrooper remains in bed for the next few days, then," Governess sent a glare over her shoulder at the, supposedly, sleeping man in question. It was hard to tell when he was sleeping, given that he could breathe near silently at near all times. The disadvantage of having a friend and partner who is special operations.

"But we'll be ready by then." The other two nodded in response, Shaman sending a surprisingly sly glance at the unnaturally stoic Marksman.

"Did you give Sir Deathtrooper the sword?" Shaman asked after a moment of awkward silence passed when Marksman returned her stare with a glare.

"No," Governess sighed, looking over at the chest that held the blade in question, "I'm worried he will stay awake trying to find ways to best use it to… I don't know, blow up a small army." Despite their evident tension, Shaman and Marksman laughed.

After a few moments, the duo said their goodbyes, promising to come back after a couple of days when it was time to leave. Governess closed the door, a small smile on her lips as she turned to face the supposedly sleeping Deathtrooper.

A small twitch on his lips told her he was not as asleep as he had seemed.

"Are you done pretending to be asleep?" Governess ground out, evidently upset he was awake.

"No." He answered bluntly before rolling over, supporting his head with his hand, "We are headed out in a couple days?"

"We will, but you're going to rest until then."

"Unlikely, but I'll try." Governess blinked, not expecting him to give in so easily. She narrowed her eyes, immediately suspicious. Deathtrooper, however, had already rolled away from her and was facing the wall, his back to Governess.

She was confused to be sure but shrugged away her confusion. She wasn't likely to get whatever was wrong out.

* * *

The hiss of DT-227's helmet was like music to his ears. The helmet quickly sealed, opening the filters to allow air flow. The HUD jumped to life shortly after, running through diagnosis. It had been several days since the helmet was allowed to be online, so it was panicking for a moment before finding nothing wrong with the suit.

It recognized that the midsection of the blaster-resistant mesh had been repaired after the damage it had sustained. Of course, damage meant the suit had nearly been split in half, but the helmet saw the problem was gone and instead addressed other parts of the suit and armor.

After another couple seconds, it confirmed everything was in working order.

Pleased, DT-227 turned to face Governess a little too quickly. A small stab of pain laced its way up his side, luckily his flinch was hidden thanks to his helmet meaning the Governess wouldn't see.

It was bizarre, having someone hovering over him at all times, trying to take care of him. She had spent the better part of the last few days bringing him food, water, and trying to help him to the restroom. It was as embarrassing as it was heartwarming for the soldier, he was of two minds on how to feel about it.

"Everything alright?" She asked, her eyes peering up into the empty mask of DT-227's helmet. His lips quirked up in a smile at her worry.

"As it can be. Come on, we don't want to be late," He stated, slinging the heavy blaster rifle over his back alongside its lighter cousin. Their familiar weight was a comfort to him as Governess had refused to let him so much as touch the blasters. Thankfully, she had to sleep eventually, so it was then that he did required maintenance on them and his blaster-resistant mesh.

"Okay, just don't overextend yourself." She warned, still looking worried as he lifted up the duo of duffle bags. DT-227 scoffed, but her glare eventually forced him to fold.

"Very well, unless the situation necessitates it, I will not _overextend_ myself." Her frosty glare melted into a smile. She gave a pleased nod and opened the door, letting the morning light go in. DT-227 took a deep breath in, tasting the metallic air of his filter before following Governess out the door.

She faltered for a moment before, seemingly, remembering something. She spun and reached into her bag, drawing out a sword that seemed to glow unnaturally.

The blade was long, one side of it sharp while the other seemed to not be. The blade, which was slightly curved, led down to a small crossguard and an ornately designed handle. It was adorned in gems and expensive looking metals, more a work of art than a sword.

"What…" He started as she held out the blade to him.

"Here, since you lost your knife I figured you might want another melee weapon," Governess explained, holding up the blade a little higher, "It's not as short as your knife, but with the right dedication I think You could be competent with it."

With a tentative hand, DT-227 gripped the blade with one gloved hand. He lifted it gingerly from her hand, trying and failing to get used to its unfamiliar weight. It wasn't uncomfortable, but it would need some adjustments and some getting used to.

"... Thank you," He replied genuinely, taking the offered sheath and attaching it to his belt. The sword joined his multitude of explosive and equipment. It stood out like a sore thumb, next to the jet black and military grey tools, but he figured it would make a fine addition and be of some use in a tight situation.

"What about you? Did you take anything from the loot?" He asked, looking her over. All she was carrying on herself, save a small rucksack carrying a portion of their earned gold, was the blaster pistol on her hip. She gave a broad smile and pulled her shirt up a bit, revealing pearly white chainmail beneath.

"I'm no good with any of the local weapons, so I took this. Supposedly, the armor is nigh invincible."

"Huh, good choice what with all the trouble you seem to get into."

"Excuse me?!" She demanded before storming out of the room with a huff. DT-227 chuckled softly, following her out.

Peering out of the window in the hallway, he saw that the sun had only just begun rising, casting the small town in an orange hue. It was… Nice, a stark contrast to the usually dull look interior of their room. He couldn't help but crack a small smile, free from the bed.

"Come on!" Governess called from the end of the hall, drawing his attention from the window. He gave a sharp nod, walking after her as his legs complained over the first real use they got in days.

The owner spared them little more than a glance at the duo passed, finally used to the presence of DT-227. Outside, Marksman and Shaman awaited their arrival, their own supplies slung over their backs in small rucksacks.

Shaman beamed at the arrival of DT-227 and Governess, Marksman offering an uncharacteristically shy smile.

"Governess, Sir Deathtrooper, it's nice to see you up and about again!" Shaman said with a bow of her head to DT-227. The man offered a small, unseen smile.

"It feels good to be up and about. It was a pain, having to lay there for so long." DT-227 joked, earning a look of surprise from the other two, clearly stunned at _him_ making _jokes_?

"What? I've been trapped in a room with no one else but _her_ to talk to. I may be a soldier, but typically when I'm forced to be silent over long periods of time I'm doing _something_."

"You were 'doing something', you were sleeping!" Governess defended weakly, this earning a harsh laugh from DT-227.

"Surprisingly, my lack of a need to sleep for long periods of time gives me a bad case of insomnia when I've had more than sufficient rest. Instead, I got to spend the nights repairing my armor and listening to you _snore_."

"I do not snore!" Governess snapped out, crossing her arms and trying her best to look indignant.

"You two sound like you have spent the better part of the last couple days trying not to kill each other." Shaman, sounding slightly worried as the duo glared at one another.

"Well, when you're stuck in the same room as him, who talks about nothing save complaining about staying in bed and military operations, you get a little _annoyed_."

"Rich, coming from the woman who did nothing but attempt to mother me for all that time!" He retorted, unable to convey the true level of his annoyance due to the thrice-damned helmet, "Even if I needed sleep, I wouldn't have gotten a wink what with your standing over me like some carrion bird!"

"Who are you calling a-" Governess started, but was cut off by Marksman, who also looked worried that more than insults might start flying.

"Hey, hey! Let's maybe stow the threats until later, yeah? Traveling is always a good way to mend a friendship, I say!" She said with a slight tremble in her voice as Governess turned fully to glare up at DT-227.

"I couldn't agree more," The Deathtrooper agreed with a voice laced with sarcastic tone. He couldn't really understand her problem, one moment she was nice and caring, others she was tearing into him just like this.

It was in silence that the group left the town, interrupted only by the tearful goodbyes of Clerk Girl and her family. Guard Captain tried, again, at his sales pitch in getting DT-227 to join up or align himself with the town guard. He, politely, refused for, as put out with her at the moment he was, his one job was to protect Governess.

His near death had shown him that he had to be smarter, to be more aware otherwise he would die. This time, there may not be a supposed goddess safeguarding his survival.

 _But is there something else I can do?_

A small, and annoyingly correct, voice asked.

 _You can't always be there._

Yes, yes he could. And he would, Governess would retain some part of her child-like innocence, not have it crushed out of her by the harsh realities of the real world.

 _And at what cost? Her life, or will that innocence be taken by force by one of these horrid monsters?_

A bridge to cross when it came.

* * *

The day passed without incident, unsurprisingly. It seemed Governess was quick to forgive him, as she basically dragged him out to a cliff face to overlook a vast lake and the distant mountain ranges, looking like a painting from his former handler's office.

The group decided to set up camp up on a small hill, their backs to a cliff face. DT-227, quickly forced to get back into his old mindset, threw down sensors all around the camp. Ensuring all of their ranges overlapped some, he took a seat on a large rock and stared out over the road, into the distance.

The blaster rifle in his hands felt heavy, the helmet uncomfortable, and the blaster-resistant mesh a little tight in places, but overall it felt good to be in the proverbial saddle again. He felt a level of control he lacked in bed, holding this blaster and wearing the helmet. It picked up every minute detail or sound that human eyes would miss, a constant barrage of information to ensure that his mind was never once left to its own devices. A problem he realized whilst 'resting', he severely lacked an imagination. Never having read for fun or enjoyed a holovid, he didn't have much of a basis on fantasy or science-fiction.

Naturally, not much to think about in regards to goblins, skeletons, and demons unless hot best to kill them counts.

His thoughts on the subject were, however, silenced by the cracking of twigs under Governesses shoe. He gave a small start at that, silently cursing his momentary distraction and turning to look at her.

Governess was still dressed in her… Well, Governess outfit. They, meaning she, had purchased a number of nicer clothing for the two of them to wear with the sudden mound of gold they owned, gold the two of them split between them to cut down on weight. She favored the clothing she came to this planet in, for one reason or another.

The young woman was carrying two steaming cups of some liquid, not that he could guess what based on smell. Sometimes, it felt like his helmet was more a detriment than any real help.

"I thought you might be thirsty," She said in form of greeting, holding over one of the cups. It was clearly some flavored drink, given the odd brown color the liquid had.

"I'm fine," He stated, giving a small wave of his hand and refocusing on the area around them.

"Nonsense, Shaman made it for all of us. It's tea!" She offered the cup again, the light steam dancing under his helmet as she beamed up at him. A small warning appeared on his helmet, but DT-227 ignored it. It was likely picking up whatever herbs were in the cup.

"Okay, okay." He grabbed his helmet and, with a small twist, unsealed it. Setting the helmet aside, he accepted the cup. It smelt rather nice, he had never had tea before, though.

DT-227 had no idea what to expect.

Taking a small sip and cringing at the heat, he looked back out over the area before them.

"It feels strange, being out again." Governess stated after a few moments of silence and tea sipping. He nodded slowly in agreement.

"Strange, but right. My sort was never made to stay in one place for long."

"Made?" She scoffed, as if the very idea was an insult, "You're a human, Deathtrooper. A bizarre, short-tempered one, but human nonetheless."

"Very well, I wasn't _designed_ to stay in one place for long. Makes one stir crazy."

"Stir crazy?" Repeated Governess with a mock scowl, "Are you insinuating that my caring of you was comparable to imprisonment?"

"Yes." Answer DT-227 bluntly, sipping his tea again and finding it a little more manageable. A large yawn shuddered its way through his body, catching him off guard and eliciting a small smirk from Governess.

"You sound tired." She observed, but her concerns were waved away by DT-227. He removed the hand covering his mouth, trying to blink away a bit of the growing exhaustion.

"Nonsense, I slept last-" His words were silenced by another large yawn.

"Maybe you should rest."

"No I… Okay… Okay, I'll just lay my head down for… For a minute or… Two…" His voice trailed off as he slid off his rock and used it as a rest for his head. His eyelids felt like durasteel, so he allowed them to close. He sluggishly freed the sword from his belt, setting it aside. The exhaustion, however, grew to be too much for the soldier, so he left the rest of his equipment in place.

 _For just a minute._

* * *

Governess let out a sigh, pouring out the rest of his tea. Deathtrooper was out, and it only took enough sedatives to put down a rancor!

She knew the Deathtroopers were physically augmented, but that was ridiculous! He lasted several minutes with sedatives running through his veins, they must have one powerful resistance to toxins and poisons.

She rose to her feet, staring down at his peacefully sleeping face, devoid of his usually serious expression. She cracked the smallest of smiles, rising to her feet and carrying her tea back to the campfire, where the other two were awaiting her return.

"He's out?" Asked Marksman, laying sideways and holding her head up with a hand, watching the meat they were cooking turn slowly due to Shaman's machinations.

"Like a babe, and it only took a third of the sedatives he had." Governess said, kneeling down in front of the fire and sipping at her tea.

"Good, it isn't good for him to never sleep, even given who he is." Marksman stated, jabbing at the meat with a knife before nodding at Shaman. As Shaman set back to turning the meat, Governess spoke.

"Yes, now that he is asleep we can move into a more pressing issue that I would rather he didn't hear," She turned, staring into Marksman's very soul, "Namely, your seeming inability to act normally around him."

Marksman choked on her tea, clearly not expecting Governesses direct and merciless approach. She moved her gaze from Governess, who held an expression of utmost seriousness, to Shaman who seemed to be trying to hide a smirk.

"W-Wait a moment, what is this, an intervention?!" Marksman demanded, fighting down her rising blush.

"You could call it that…" Shaman said, refocusing her attention upon the cooking meat. Realizing her one, and usual, avenue for support being closed off, Marksman swallowed as she met Governesses eyes.

"Your dancing around and general bashfulness towards Deathtrooper is quite annoying and not very in-character of you. You fancy him, that much is obvious, but there is a certain difficulty with that, see-" Governess started, but she was shut down by the snort from Marksman, who suddenly looked very unhappy.

"Yes, I know the _difficulties_ with that, Governess." Marksman ground out, averting her eyes and glaring at a nearby fallen branch as if it had offended her somehow. Governess raised an eyebrow, not expecting this.

"You do?"

"Yes," Marksman snapped, once again catching Governess off guard with her anger, "I understand. You two are clearly _affectionate_ towards one another, I'll stay out of your way."

Silence.

Governess blinked once, twice, and then a third time. She wasn't exactly sure if she had heard that right, honestly, Marksman couldn't be serious…

Governess choked, holding back the giggle that was bubbling up in her chest. The sound drew Marksman's glare, a glare that quickly evaporated into shock as Governess erupted into laughter.

"Y-You-" She was stopped by her laughter, further bewildering Marksman.

"You honestly thought that twat and I were romantically involved?! I can barely stand him most days!" She stated over her giggles, any pretense of seriousness lost.

"B-But, you two always seem to work together well enough."

"Which part of these last few days ever said 'work well together' to you? The part where he carried our collective weight? No, we fight, more nowadays than before, but it's really hard to be attracted to a man that nearly executed me."

"W-What?!" Shaman looked up, surprised by that admittance. Governesses amusement passed, replaced by a look of sadness and apprehension.

"When we… Arrived, his squad was wiped out. I don't know why, perhaps it was some sort of compulsion to follow orders, but he executed the other survivor before moving on to me. He tried, tried to shoot me but he couldn't. One way or another, he broke the compulsion."

"See, clearly it was-"

"I don't see why you are arguing with me on this, Marksman," Governesses cut her off, "It wasn't some affection or attraction that saved me. We didn't even know each other until that day. No, it was sheer willpower and a concussion that broke the compulsion. That isn't the issue, however." Marksman perked up, a slightly worried look in her eyes as Governess continued.

"The issue is, even if you were to walk over and confess to him right now… Well, he wouldn't know, he's asleep. But, hypothetically let's say, his reaction would be… Well, I don't know, honestly. You have to remember that, until recently, Deathtrooper was nothing more than something like a skeleton, emotionless, a weapon for our… Leader. A hit to the head seemed to rattle that compulsion, but he's still not fully human. He's started to get a grasp on compassion and the likes, but he's a long way off from understanding attraction and love. In a few years, maybe, but for now?" Governess looked over to the slumbering form of Deathtrooper, only able to be seen based on his pale skin, the armor blended in with the night, "He's my protector, and nothing more."

Marksman looked put out at that, drawing her knees up to her chest and resting her head on it. As she thought, the other two watched the food cook noisily, not speaking.

Eventually, the food was complete, but there was another issue Governess wished to address.

"Now, on the subject of Deathtrooper, I need your help. You see, I don't think leaving him down there is the best idea."

* * *

DT-227 didn't know if it was the chirping of birds or the light snoring to his right that roused him, but as he opened his eyes the Deathtrooper knew he was not where he remembered falling asleep.

He had fallen asleep and awoke to find himself in an unfamiliar place. Panic quickly gripped his heart, doing away with any earlier drowsiness and filling his body and mind with adrenaline.

He shot up, sitting now and reaching for a knife that was no longer on his hip, or in existence as his memory slowly came back to him. He was seated now in a black tent, flanked by two sleeping women. To his right was Governess, relief flooded his heart, who was lightly snoring, and to his left was Shaman, who was facing the other way.

DT-227 groaned, trying to remember what had happened as his pinched his nose. It was then that he realized he was still in his full armor sans helmet, which was nowhere to be seen. What he did spot was the shorter of his two blasters near the entrance, the pistol was in its holster near Governess, though she was in no position to draw it should a problem arise.

The soldier crept out from under the heat blanket that had been thrown over him, shuddering as his suit quickly adjusted the internal temperature. He grabbed his blaster and pressed out of the tent's flap, briefly blinded by the morning sun.

"Mornin'." Came a voice in response to his appearance, sounding slightly amused. DT-227's eyes adjusted, revealing Marksman camped out in front of the tent, her bow held in one hand as the other rested on her thigh. Next to her feet was his overturned helmet, the opening facing up and towards her.

"Have you been on watch the entire night?" He asked, rising to his feet and popping his back. Marksman cringed at the noise but continued without comment.

"No, Governess took the first half of the night, I took the back half." Marksman explained with a dismissive tone, nodding towards the helmet, "She said that you had put up some sort of 'sensors' linked to your helmet, and any noise coming from it meant something crossed the boundary. She warned me not to wear it, though, didn't explain why." DT-227 knelt down and picked the helmet up, wiping some dirt and grass from its gleaming dome before slipping it on.

"She was right to warn you, there's a built-in self-destruct mechanism in the event someone who wasn't me tried to wear it."

"Oh…" Silence presided between them as DT-227 took a seat on a rock nearby, opposite her own seat in front of the tent. Neither spoke, merely staring out over the horizon at the rising sun, calling for the start of a new day.

"You know," DT-227 started, "I'm surprised you are talking or even looking at me, given your reactions to me these last few days." Marksman flinched at his words but seemed dead set on not looking his way. When she didn't respond, he pressed on.

"I'm… Sorry." He said, genuine sadness and failure filling his voice, though it was slightly distorted, as he remembered the death of Swordsman and his actions towards Shaman.

"S-Sorry? For what?" Marksman's voice became slightly shrill as she twisted, staring at him with wide eyes and heavy blush. DT-227 quirked an eyebrow from beneath his helmet but did not comment on her reaction.

"My… Actions towards Shaman were unnecessary, and I failed to save your friend, Swordsman."

"O-Oh…"

"Why, what did you think I was talking about?"

"N-Nothing!" Marksman stuttered again before forcing herself to become calm again and looking back out over the horizon.

"I realize now how out of our depth we were. Had you not been there, we would likely have not even made it to the dungeon, little more than survived it. You did what was necessary to survive. Shaman has nightmares, not about you but about that goblin village you fried. At the time, I felt pity for them, but as we went down deeper into the dungeon?" Marksman cracked a small, tired smirk that told how much the dungeon really wore down on her, "They just became targets for practice, not living creatures. We became dull to killing, to those thrice-damned screaming skeletons, when Swordsman died I felt sadness, of course, but emotionally I was…"

"Deadened?"

"Yeah."

"I understand. It was never a problem for me. I don't know how much Governess told you, but my lot was created for the express purpose of enforcing the will of whoever out handler was at the time. We killed, a lot. I can't even begin to count how many lives I've taken, and even if I were to remember each individual kill I still couldn't get an accurate number. We were used for assassinations, bombings, creating enemies where they didn't exist." DT-227 couldn't begin to understand what compelled him to explain so much to a person he barely knew, but it felt… Good, so he didn't stop. At the end of his short monologue silence reigned for a few minutes as Marksman mulled his words over.

"That sounds… Horrible." Marksman said, to which DT-227 nodded slowly in agreement. As a soldier, he had never questioned his life, always taking it as his lot in existence. After the few short weeks he had spent here on this unnamed planet, far beyond the reaches of the Empire, DT-227 had changed. He still fought and killed without mercy, but he had begun to feel compassion, among many other human emotions. If they ever got back, would he wish to remain in the service of the Empire, to go back and be reconditioned into the perfect killing machine? Did he even want to go home?

Home, what a novel idea. Home to him was the barracks on some tropical planet, listening to the incessant posturing of some brain dead Imperial Director trying to cash in on past glories, enforcing the rule of the Empire and the corruption of its many Governors and Officers.

"I just want to protect her from having to live through that, to become some weapon." Deathtrooper told Marksman as he lowered his head, the supposed goddess's words running through his head, "Not to become like me."

"You can't always be there, Sir Deathtrooper. When you nearly died in the dungeon, I think we were all reminded just how screwed we would have been had something happened to you on the way down. Eventually, she will be forced to fend for herself," Marksman turned to him, worry and passion in the depths of her dark eyes, "It's up to you to decide if she'll be prepared to face that." They both fell silent, DT-227 contemplating her words. They struck true, Governess needed to be prepared for whatever this dangerous world threw at her. He knew this, but was it wrong of him to wish that she could keep some part of her innocence intact?

"I assume my sleep was achieved with the help of sedatives?" He asked, not accusing Marksman of anything as he already figured who the culprit was.

"Yeah, they used some of your sedatives to knock you out, used quite a bit, or so they claimed."

"I'm typically a light sleeper, so they must have really done me in." Both chuckled at the thought, but any further conversation on the subject was cut off by yawning from within the tent.

* * *

"You know," DT-227 noted with mock concern, digging through one of the duffle bags as if he were searching for something, "I think we're missing something."

He turned, finding Governess and Shaman looking at him. The former, a future politician, kept her face completely straight and devoid of any sign that she was at fault for the missing sedatives. Shaman, on the other hand, paled significantly and began to sweat nervously.

"We're down by a third of my sedatives…" He continued, holding up one of the canisters in question. Shaman seemed about ready to burst, panic and shame expressed clearly on her face as she averted her eyes from DT-227. Governess, on the other hand, gave a noncommittal shrug, as if the subject matter wasn't all that important in her mind. DT-227 allowed a small, unseen smirk as he rose, tossing the canister back in.

"Well, this is bad. Damn useful, sedatives are, makes taking care of larger threats easier. Without them, things could get more difficult…" Each word seemed like a weight was dropped upon Shaman's shoulders. Eventually, she burst, falling to her knees and pleading for forgiveness.

"Traitor!" Governess, also throwing caution to the win, accused Shaman, "He was having you on, if he wanted to take care of a big monster he would just use explosives! He was trying to get you to… Admit… Blast." Governess quickly realized that she had basically just painted herself as guilty as well.

All eyes were on him, worry of Shaman's face, amusement on Marksman's, and indignance on Governesses. The absurdity of the situation was too much for him, DT-227 broke into laughter, shaking his head.

"Let's move, I want to make good time today." Still smiling to himself, he left the stunned Shaman and Governess behind.

* * *

The group came to rest after another uneventful day in a clearing off the road, DT-227 relenting the demands that he only take half the night on watch. Marksman was to replace him after a few hours, where he would be required to get some sleep.

He tried defending with the fact that he had slept the night before, but to no avail. So, here he was, seated outside and staring up into the star-filled sky, thinking to himself. Not only had the supposed Goddess, but also Marksman caused him to rethink his choices regarding Governess. She was young, full of energy and life, but still young. She was the same age as Marksman and Shaman, give or take, but she seemed a lot less hardened to the realities of the world. That wasn't to say she was damn cruel at times, and if their lack of a money problem was to go by, a shrewd negotiator, but she hadn't seen the worst this world had to offer. She seemed to think, whether unconsciously or consciously, that the events over the last few weeks were contained events and things were bound to get better.

They wouldn't be, goblins were a minor problem in this wide world, and yet they seemed to cost so many lives if his short conversations with locals were to be believed. He wasn't immortal, the fight with the supposed Demon was proof of that. He could be careful as he wanted, but the fact remained that Governess would always force him to bring her along on dangerous missions he would go on when money started to get tight again.

It all came back to the matter of her innocence. He wanted to grant her that one thing as long as possible, the belief there was good in the world before reality crushed it.

 _Since was I such a pessimist?_

Evidently, human emotions made him a bit of a defeatist at heart.

That aside, he wanted to grant her something he, and many in the galaxy at large, would never have. Yet, that train of thought was countered by another, what had the supposed Goddess said about her father? The man, how she explained it, was abusive to an extent. Had her innocence merely an act for him, a front to make him believe she had not faced the harsh reality of life?

He shook his head, the internal conflict slowly tilting to the side of training her, teach her to fight like a Deathtrooper…

Or, trying to. She was still limited by her physical make-up.

DT-227 sighed, hoping he was doing the right thing and not setting her up to become like what he was once, an emotionless enforcer.

With a sigh, the soldier rose to his feet and walked towards the tent, the only sound coming from him being the clatter of his sword against his armored thigh.

Governess was the last one awake, the other two seemingly turning in early. She was seated next to the fire, prodding it with a stick as she stared unseeing at it. He knelt beside her, rousing the young woman from her quiet introspection.

"Something wrong?" She asked with a small, cute yawn and stretch. He took in a deep breath before speaking, slowly and clearly.

"I've… Come to a decision. The events that occurred in the dungeon proved to me that I'm not immortal, and won't always be there to protect you," Governesses earlier exhaustion vanished immediately, her eyes like the floodlights on a freighter as she stared up at him, "As such, I have decided that, if you're willing, I will train you to fight using the smaller blaster rifle, among a number of other tools and weapons."

"Yes." She said instantly without a moment of thought, earning a wry grin from DT-227.

"You won't be that enthusiastic when we start, Governess. We'll begin when we get settled in Frontier Town. Get some sleep, for now, I'm headed back to my post." The young woman got to her feet, snapped off a mock salute, and ran back to the tent, slipping in after removing her shoes. DT-227 chuckled softly, rising to his feet and returning to where he was keeping guard, all while wondering if he had made the right choice.

* * *

It was the next day, dirtied and exhausted, that found the party entering Frontier Town, save DT-227 who carried himself with his usual tireless confidence. The locals here seemed a lot less terrified of him than in the earlier town, the reasoning soon apparent when he saw the true adventurers. Many wore heavy, metal armor that seemed equal parts impractical as it was heavy, but if it kept them alive long enough to progress in the 'Adventurer's Guild'.

The party stopped in front of the Guild Hall, deciding it was there that they would split.

"It had been an honor, and thank you for keeping us alive as long as you have." Shaman thanked the duo, dipping her head with a tearful smile. DT-227 removed his helmet as Governess spoke, looking a little sad herself.

"It's been fun, if you ever need anything…"

"Give us a call, we'll help friends in need any time," DT-227 finished, to all of their surprises, and offered Shaman his hand. She took it, shaking.

"I'm going to head in and file a report, as well as put in a request for a rank advancement for us, don't take too long." Shaman said, nodding to DT-227 and Governess one last time before addressing Marksman. With that, she disappeared into the building, the noise inside carried out for a brief moment as the doors opened.

Marksman turned back to them with a broad smile, dragging Governess into a tight hug.

"Don't be a stranger, you hear?" She asked, Governess laughing in response and returning the hug.

"Never." They released one another, Marksman turning to DT-227. He put up a hand, however.

"No, I'm not much of a hugger- Ah." Marksman, surprisingly, managed to jump up high enough to wrap her arms around his neck and hug him, albeit a little painfully. It was less her weight and more her bony arms digging into his now exposed-

What happened next was so shocking to DT-227 that his brain, quite literally, stopped functioning.

Marksman pulled her head back, still keeping her arms wrapped around his neck. She had a faint blush on her cheeks, but the resolution on her face seemed to supersede any other thought.

The act was fast, she captured his lips with her own. It was bizarre, clearly unpracticed, but it stunned the man nonetheless. Governess gasped, clearly not expecting this turn of events either, but what her expression was would remain a mystery to DT-227, as all he could see was the face of Marksman, who still had her lips pressed to his.

After a moment, that seemed to stretch into a century, she released him and dropped to the ground. Despite her actions, she had only a faint blush on her face. She gave him a wink before jogging over to the Guild Hall, waving behind her as she went.

A few whistles and catcalls followed the action for a moment before those nearby wandered off, leaving a still stunned DT-227 and Governess.

"What the actual hell was that?" He asked quietly after a few moments of staring where Marksman had vanished off to.

"I think…" Governess responded, a sly smirk appearing on her face as she turned and stared up into his eyes, "That was her staking her claim."

"Staking her…" The realization at the insinuation came to him far faster than he expected, "By the maker, are you kidding?! I'm almost a decade her senior!"

"That, evidently, doesn't matter to her."

"It does to me! And I let it happen!"

"You know, for being so emotionless any other time, you seem to understand the situation quite well."

"Of course I do, I wasn't born yesterday! What am I going to do…?" Governess laughed at his expense, earning a sharp glare from the man. He, once again, cursed these newfound human emotions for allowing him to become so flustered, blaming Governess for what felt like the millionth time. Suddenly, how Marksman was acting made quite a bit more sense with the benefit of hindsight.

"Is this funny to you?"

"Quite, now come on Casanova, I'm tired. Let's find somewhere to sleep!"


	6. Chapter 6

**Deathtrooper**

 **Chapter 6**

 **Training**

* * *

Governess wondered, and not for the first time over the last few days, if wanting to be trained by Deathtrooper in combat was a good idea.

Gasping for breath as she ran the final stretch of her mile, she decided it wasn't.

Three days had passed since the duo had arrived in Frontier Town, three days of actual hell and pure suffering for the Governess, who had not expected Deathtrooper's training regimen to be so merciless.

His tongue, it seemed, was as sharp as his blade, lashing out next to her as he jogged lightly to keep pace. He had done nothing for these past few days save having her practice her endurance, his personal favorite being running. The lack of exercise equipment didn't seem to be an issue for the soldier, who merely found more creative ways to make her suffer.

She stumbles, so deep in thought, before falling, face first, into the first pathway. She sucked in a pained breath as her knees and forearms slid along the dirt, undoubtedly giving her a few scrapes to remember this day by.

"Are you okay?" Asked Deathtrooper, sounding genuinely worried as he stopped, not even starting to breath hard, and kneeled at her side. Governess, still gasping for breath, nodded slowly in response.

"Then that dirt must look really bloody good! Why don't you get a better look? Forty push-ups, on the double!" The drill sergeant voice was back in all its horrid glory, compelling her into moving in fear that he might actually make good on the threat of using his taser as an incentive.

He was not a bad trainer, threats of bodily harm considered, it was clearly based on whoever had seen to his training. It was just so out of character for the usually stoic man to be screaming and threatening. He understood how best to train her, however, unless this was some bizarre form of torture she was hitherto unaware of.

After her push-ups were complete, Deathtrooper's distorted voice jeering at her the entire way, she finished the last few paces of the run before nearly collapsing on the spot. She knew better, however, collapsing, in his demented, deranged book, meant that you wanted to do push-ups. The man was a menace, even if this was going to help her in the long run.

"Very good, twelve minutes. You're improving. Now, bar hangs, over here." Oh, by the maker, not bar hanging. Her arms, which were lithe and weak, were not very suited to hold her weight for extended periods of time, oh how her elegance trainer would cry over the brutalizing of her petite form…

Governess walked over and stepped up on the wooden stool Deathtrooper had taken from their room back in town. Grabbing the branch in question, she sucked in a deep breath.

"When you're ready," He said, awaiting her to start. Governess nodded, still panting as she pulled herself up the few inches between her shoulders and the branch. The stool vanished, meaning she was on her own for as long as she could last.

After a few seconds, the pain started to appear, a few more seconds and her muscles were screaming and begging for her to stop. Governess, however, had more willpower than that, she would hold as long as she could. She needed to improve herself, not just because she wanted to but because she needed to. Deathtrooper wouldn't always be able to protect her, that much was evidenced by the dungeon fiasco.

The dungeon, she thought back to that day. It felt like it had been just yesterday they entered the town, wide-eyes and lost. Now, weeks later it seemed, they were in Frontier Town. Money wouldn't be an issue, not for another couple months at least given the rate it was going. Deathtrooper was already in the works of getting the two of them registered with the Guild, a little challenging given that they technically didn't exist on this planet.

Speaking of Adventurers, Marksman and Shaman had been promoted a rank once the Guild realized neither were lying about helping clear a dungeon. They became the talk of the Guild, being the first to ever survive a dungeon and be there to tell the tale. Naturally, it became evident that they had less helped clear it and more assisted the man who did. Luckily, Deathtrooper suddenly seemed a lot less approachable to the common folk and regular adventurers, as his black armor seemed less for show to them and more like a bad omen. A man who could kill a demon and survive basically unharmed, Marksman and Shaman conveniently left out the part where he had nearly died, was clearly no one to mess with.

Only a few had approached him with offers to join their groups or guilds, all of which he rebuked with a deathly glare.

A pity for Marksman and Shaman, however, as the Guild allowed only one promotion per month. They were basically set, however, as they could walk in an say 'we helped clear a dungeon' and were set for a few ranks.

Naturally, Governess seemed to become famous by association, but given her porcelain and aristocratic features, she was seen less as a contributor and more as the beautiful princess, saved by the black knight. Naturally, Deathtrooper looked less like a gallant knight and more like the embodiment of the devil, but the locals couldn't really find a better title for the man than 'Sir Knight'. Of course, the woman that ran the front counter seemed less afraid of the man and more annoyed, as Deaththtrooper spoke in short sentences and barely let any information out.

Governess, who had been present once during these interactions, swore she heard the woman, Guild Girl, muttering under her breath about some 'Goblin Slayer' fellow, and how he and Deathtrooper would get along famously.

Governesses mind was dragged back to the present as her arms, finally, gave out. She dropped to the ground, landing gracefully and massaging her tired arms.

"How long was that?" She asked, impressed she had lasted as long as she had. When Deathtrooper spoke, she could hear the smile on his face.

"Twenty seconds."

* * *

After finishing up the morning exercises, to which Governess was endlessly grateful, Deathtrooper led her to a table he had set up. It was dark grey, likely of durasteel, and held the three blasters he had brought with him from the now destroyed shuttle.

They were arranged out, though only the larger of the three held extra clips of ammo next to it. The man indicated to the first, the pistol that she had been using over the last couple of weeks.

"As you may already know, this is the SE-14r blaster pistol, a high powered short-to-mid-range pistol. It holds twenty-five rounds per charge with a specialist deep-insertion modification." He explained, picking up the pistol and holding it in one hand.

"What is a 'deep-insertion modification'?" Governess asked, watching him set the pistol back down.

"Well, it would be impractical for a specialist to have to carry around a large number of extra charge packs for the blasters, so they have built-in solar-powered generators that, over time, recharge the pack. It takes time, and is prone to overheat, but is dead useful if a specialist in being put into operation for a long period of time." He set the pistol back down before moving on to the shorter of the two rifles.

"This is the E-11D. Unlike its counterpart used by the Stormtroopers, the E-11D is extremely accurate alongside its inherent power. These cooling vents along the barrel," He ran a gloved hand along the barrel, indicating to the aforementioned holes, "Keep overheating down to a minimum. The blaster can still overheat, just not as easily. Much like the SE, the E-11 has the specialist modification. It holds fifty rounds per charge." Governess nodded along, studying the blaster as he spoke. It looked similar to what the regular Stormtroopers used, save for the elongated barrel attachment.

"And this," The man came to stop at the last blaster, pride filling his distorted voice as he pats it, "is the DLT-19d Heavy Blaster Rifle, a specialist's dream. It had 150 rounds to a charge, coming with a fully-automatic mode, single fire, or charged shot, for really big threats. This one doesn't have the specialist modification, so I do have limited ammo for it…" Governess, confused by that, put up her hand. Deathtrooper was pried from his lamenting, nodding to her.

"Why doesn't it?" She asked, earning a cock of his head.

"Why doesn't what?"

"Why doesn't the… DLT… whatever blaster have the 'specialist modification'." There was a pause for a few moments as Deathtrooper seemed to try and formulate an answer.

"Well, we weren't intending to be disconnected from supply for very long, so the Captain decided that we should stick to standard ammo, doesn't overheat as quickly."

"So why do these two have the modification, if you had been using them during my rescue?" Questioned Governess. Deathtrooper cleared her throat, averting his gaze even though Governess was unable to see his expression.

"I… Well, may or may not have grabbed the wrong ones as we were sent out on our operation." He said, sounding rather embarrassed by the fact that he had made a mistake. Governess, though exhausted, grinned rather evilly at his words, stemming her fists into her hips.

"The great Deathtrooper can make mistakes, then?"

"Not a mistake," He defended weakly, putting up a defensive hand, "Merely planning for every possible problem."

"So you expected to crash on a planet where you would be forced to survive for an extended period of time?" Governess asked incredulously, raising an eyebrow as the man scrambled to justify his failure.

"Yes?"

"Liar."

* * *

A few more hours of exercise pass in a blur of pain and agony for Governess, as Deathtrooper seemed to take her criticism as an excuse to work her as hard as he could. Governess was not so arrogant as to believe that two miles of running was a lot for the average person, but for her? She really hoped this all proved to be useful, and that she didn't die before the training was complete.

They returned to the Inn they were staying at, another reason their gold was vanishing so quickly as it was rather upscale. Unlike others, the person at the counter did not instantly assume they were lovers, instead believing them to be adventurers. They would not be wrong, should Deathtrooper actually find a way to make their paperwork _seem_ true to the inquiring eye.

The rest of today, however, would be spent relaxing on her part. The room they were staying in had a private bath, bless the maker, as she didn't know if she could stand being in a communal bathhouse any longer. Here, she was free to take as long as she wanted, not forced to be stared at by curious locals.

As she slid down into the warm water, sighing with relief as pleasure washed over her aching muscles and bones, she wondered what the coming weeks would bring. Deathtrooper had never explained to her what his grand plan was here, they just seemed to be wandering place to place at his whim.

 _Hopefully, we stay here, where we might find stable work and a nice place to live._

Her hopeful thoughts were stung by the realization that, even if they got jobs as adventurers, they would have no goal. Asides from making money and helping the occasional person, they would just be wandering day-to-day.

Even with that, her future seemed brighter on this backwater planet then in the 'technologically and ethically superior' Empire. Here, she was worth something… To an extent. Back 'home', her entire future was being some trophy wife to a snobby aristocrat, nothing more than a broodmare for his heirs. That was not a future she wanted for herself. Deathtrooper had not mentioned ways to get back, and in destroying their shuttle to 'ensure it did not fall into possible enemy hands'. She knew what his orders were, ensure her safe return to the Governor, but how did he intend to do that now?

 _He didn't_.

A traitorous thought entered her mind, and the more she tried to force it away, the more powerful it became.

 _He had his orders, but he didn't follow them._

The voice spoke true, had he followed his final orders and executed her, he would have just survived on his own in the wilderness of this planet. Likely until he died, awaiting reinforcements that would never come or, worse yet, attack what he perceived as enemy supply lines. The farm he had helped save would have been a smoldering ruin, had he not been able to resist his orders.

It was a terrifying thought, a nigh-unstoppable special agent unleashed upon a planet ill-prepared for someone of his skill and armament.

Governess sank lower into her bath, closing her eyes and letting the steam waft under her nose. These thoughts were rather depressing, but as much as she wished they would stay away, they were proper concerns. By some miracle, Deathtrooper's head smashing into the wall of the shuttle knocked something loose enough so that he could resist it. This act of pure luck had saved not only her life but countless others in the surrounding areas.

As she drifted to sleep, Governesses mind moved on from such depressing thoughts to an equally depressing and worrying though; what hell would Deathtrooper put her through tomorrow?

* * *

The next day found the duo at a small field near Frontier Town, several targets set up every few meters in front of them. The closest was, maybe, three meters away, becoming increasingly distant.

"When firing a blaster," Deathtrooper explained to Governess, his arms folded behind his back like some sort of generalissimo, "There is more to it than just pointing the weapon in some random direction and holding down the trigger. Every blaster variant has certain ticks and quirks that make them unique. Take the SE for example." He picked up the pistol in one hand and aimed it at the nearest of the targets. Pulling the trigger, the blaster kicked angrily. The bolt of crimson plasma hurtled down range and crashed into the shoulder of the dummy, making it totter for a second.

"As you can see, not aiming and being ill-prepared for firing can lead to one not only being inaccurate with their shots, but also a possible danger to their comrades," Deathtrooper explained, turning to face her with he blaster hanging loosely at his side, "However, if you aim and know where each target is…"

The man twisted, raising the blaster and grabbing it with his other hand as well. Within a moment, three shots rang out. Each one hit their mark, the face of the first three dummies. Governess was impressed, using the heavy blaster, the DLT-whatever, he usually relied on either hip firing it on fully automatic mode or as a blunt weapon.

Evidently, Deathtrooper training really paid off.

"Here, try to hit the second target in the chest." He ordered, turning the pistol over to her and standing aside, looking down range at the target in question. Governess raised the pistol, looking down the scope set atop it. She took in a breath and pulled the trigger, trying to account for the powerful kick of the blaster. The angry, crimson bolt hurtled down range faster than the eye could follow. It hit not the chest, but the right arm of the dummy, knocking it to one side before it went back upright.

"A good start, maybe as a good as your average Army Corps recruit but there is plenty of room for improvement. You have to compensate for the fact that you aren't as strong as I am, and this blaster is overcharged. There is a lot more power in each bolt that you might find in your average pistol of its model." He quickly adjusted her stance, moving her head in such a way that she would get a better idea of where the bolt will go.

"Remember, a blaster bolt will not change directions without reason. If you fire it down range, it will go as far as the magnetic casing lets it. Again, aim for the chest." Governess gave a nod, raising the pistol and bringing the dummy into its sights. She fired a shot, the blaster's kick a little more manageable. This time, the bolt found its place in the chest of the dummy, sending it flying backward for a second before it righted itself.

"Good, very good. More like that and I might call you _competent_. A few more, rapid succession. Lower torso, upper chest, head!" Governess, not expecting such a sudden test, raised the pistol and fired. The first went low, ramming into the dummy's crotch, the second finds its mark, and the last missed completely. Governess swallowed nervously, looking over at Deathtrooper and expecting him to lampoon her.

"Expected results. Don't worry, a few months under me and your competence will skyrocket. E-11, now, more accurate but heavier than the SE." Governess placed the small blaster on the table and replaced it with the E-11, which was a lot bigger than it had looked. She tried to get used to its weight, one hand holding the barrel while the other wrapped around the grip.

"Now, don't expect a miracle with this thing. The E-11 may be common, but it takes some practice getting used to. The E-11, especially that variant, has a lot of power in a very small package. Tighten your grip and aim for the third target, aim for center mass." Governess gave a brisk nod, raising the blaster before realizing that, without a stock, it would be a challenge to keep steady.

"Stock folds into the left side," Deathtrooper told her upon realizing what she was searching for. Governess nodded her thanks, unfolding the stock and placing it to her shoulder. It was then that she realized, again, the startling difference in their respective sizes. The stock was several times the size of her shoulder, and slightly too long. Once again realizing his mistake, Deathtrooper took the blaster back and quickly adjusted the foldable stock for her smaller frame.

"Here, give that a try." It was a far better fit. Governess raised the blaster, but unlike the pistol, there was now a stock and back portion of the blaster making it difficult to look down the scope. She tried, firing and nearly dropping the blaster as heat coursed through her hands from the vents.

She swore, letting go with that hand and shaking it. After a moment, she chanced a look. It was, thankfully, merely an angry red, no major burns. Deathtrooper sighed, placing a hand on his helmet. For the briefest moment, Governess thought he blamed her for that, but her worries were soon dashed.

"I should have remembered… The heat vents are nullified by our gloves. Sorry, here…" He reached into the duffle bag that he had brought, pulling free a sort of sheath. He pulled it tightly over the barrel, explaining as he did so.

"This will negate the heat, though the blast may overheat due to it being unable to let the heat out. Not a good time to be firing the blaster in fully automatic mode." Governess nodded, flinching as she grabbed the sheath retook aim down the range. The bolt she had fired initially, evidently, never hit the target. It was unharmed as if it were mocking her. Governess fired again, the bolt going wide and slamming into its arm.

"A rifle is a little more challenging than the pistol, adjust your head like this and…" Governess was surprised, even though the blaster was stuck uncomfortably into her cheek, she could see clearly down the scope.

Governess fired, and sure enough, her bolt found its mark. The bright burn earned an impressed nod from Deathtrooper likely less at the shot itself and more at the number of tries it took her to make it.

"Very good, very good. Now, the last weapon I have to show you is the DLT-19. Now, this will be sticking with me, not because of some belief that it belongs to me, mind, but because you are, physically, incapable of using it. Try picking the blaster up." Governess nodded solemnly, putting its smaller cousin down and picking the rifle up

Tried, that is. It was leagues heavier than the E-11, the front swinging wildly as she tried to stabilize herself. It was slightly embarrassing as Deathtrooper scrambled to avoid the barrel of the oversized blaster.

"As you can see, it's a little hard to carry." Governess set it back down on the table with a gasp of relief.

"How do you carry this thing around like it's nothing?! No, you I understand. How do common Stormtroopers do it?!" She asked, massaging her tired biceps while staring balefully at the blaster. Deathtrooper opted, instead of answering her question, to laugh, picking up the blaster easily with one hand and walking it over to a patch of grass a little ways away.

"Here, we'll try the single fire mode. Lay down and get comfortable," He ordered, kneeling next to the blaster he had just placed. Governess obeyed, laying down and shuddering slightly as the dew from the grass soaked her shirt and pants. Despite that, she brought the stock of the rifle to her shoulder and peered down the scope.

"The furthest target down the range is yours, fire when ready," Deathtrooper ordered, still kneeling at her side. Governess gave a nod to show she understood, bringing target in question into her sights. After a moment's pause, she pulled the trigger. The kick of the blaster felt like a Star Destroyer had rammed her shoulder head on, even though the brunt of the force was stopped by the bipod Deathtrooper had set up and attached to the ground. She swore, rather loudly, as a crimson bolt of energy shot through the air and met its target in mere moments. The shot nearly split the dummy in two, blasting a rather large hole into the center of its lower torso. Smoke rose from the barrel of the blaster as Governess sat up, rubbing her now screaming shoulder while glaring balefully at the offending blaster. Deathtrooper, damn him, laughed at her plight and picked the blaster up, returning it to the table.

"This thing has one hell of a kick, now imagine the charged shot."

It was painful just thinking about it.

* * *

Due to the bruising that occurred on Governesses right shoulder, and her general pain from the kick of the vicious blaster, Deathtrooper granted her a day's reprieve from his harsh training, claiming he needed to do some 'real' physical activity. That both stung Governesses pride and amused her, not that the latter of the two halted her desire for revenge in the slightest.

However, how did one get back at a man who rolled with the punches so well that he could treat death as a minor inconvenience? Well, after an hour or so of thinking, Governess came to the realization that the best way to get back at the that was near perfect at all combat skills was to find one that he wasn't as good at.

Deathtrooper, though he carried it with him near everywhere, never used the sword she had gifted him. Not because a lack of uses for it, which granted there were not a lot of, but because he was never trained with a blade like that. Any skill he had with a knife would not carry over all that well with a sword, which was both heavier and had a longer blade.

So, for both revenge and because Deathtrooper knowing how to use his sword could help them in the long run, Governess approached the Adventurer's Guild with a pocket full of gold.

It was bustling inside, as usual, with adventurers of all walks of life and ranks resting and drinking between jobs. The feeding frenzy had already passed, meaning all that remained were those taking a break that day or didn't arrive on time to get a job.

Deciding to check at the source, Governess approached the woman at the desk, Guild Girl. The blonde smiled at the approaching Governess, bowing when she reached the counter.

"Greetings, Lady Governess, I hope you are having a nice day." She said in the form of a greeting. Governess regarded her with a smile of her own.

"And you, I'm here on some business and was hoping you could assist me."

"Of course, I'll help you as I can." Guild Girl stated with another dip of her head. Governess turned, leaning on the counter as she studied the collection of adventurers, many of whom seemed to notice and recognize her as the companion of Deathtrooper, or as some called him 'Demon Hunter', a bizarre and slightly gaudy title. Some seemed to look at her curiously, wondering if there was more to her than meets the eye or if she was just a tag-along for the intimidating man in all black, while others, mainly men, made it quite clear they were checking her out.

Perverts, but if they were of use to her…

"Deathtrooper, I loathe admitting this, was never trained to use swords." Guild Girl looked surprised, likely remembering the gleaming sword that he carried on his hip.

"But… How did he kill the demon without knowing how to use his sword?"

"A combination of cunning, guile and a suicide attempt defeated the 'demon', but do not let that fool you into believing he is untrained in any form of combat. It seems he can use most any weapon bar swords. Hence my request, who would you recommend I hire to train him?" Governess asked Guild Girl all while picking out the more ornately armored of the lot.

"Well, in any other situation I would recommend Goblin Slayer, but he's been out for the last few days…" There's that name again, Goblin Slayer, Governess would have rather liked to meet such a man that would earn the reverence… and _attraction_ of Guild Girl. The woman, after all, did a poor job of hiding the excitement in her voice or the blush on her cheeks. She continued, "So instead… That being a one-handed weapon, I would recommend Female Knight, over there." Governess followed the finger of Guild Girl to another woman, this one with nearly platinum blonde hair that fell smoothly and effortlessly past her heavy armor. Once again, upon seeing the hairstyles of the locals, Governess felt a pang of envy. While she had not searched for long, she was unable to find what hair stylist they were using to make their hair so… Immaculate.

Hell, she was unable to find any stylist, period.

"However," Guild Girl continued, evidently not noticing the flood of emotions on Governesses face, "She's a silver-ranked adventurer, and will likely not to the job for cheap…" Governess dismissed her worries with a wave of her hand.

"Money is of no issue to me, Guild Girl, thank you." With that, Governess walked in the direction of the one called 'Female Knight'. Her partner, at least that was what Governess assumed the man across from her was, nodded in her direction. The woman turned ever so slightly to look at Governess before returning to her meal. Not dissuaded in the least, Governess walked right up behind her and spoke, her tone unassuming and sweet.

"Good morning, would you be Female Knight?" Governess asked, her hands folding nearly in front of her as she stood. The sweetness in her voice was like honey, smooth and soft. It was how she, typically, negotiated people into a corner that were not Deathtrooper. Of course, the time she basically bent the arm of the merchant was a mark against her, but sometimes the power of profit overpowered the power of sweetness.

"Yes, is there something I can do for you?" The woman sounded irritated by the interruption, but it was a poor disguise for her curiosity over why, likely, the companion of Deathtrooper was talking to her.

"I would like to request your help, for payment of course."

"Go talk to Guild Girl if you have a bounty," The woman stated, waving her hand dismissively at Governess before turning back to her meal. Governess let out a soft giggle as she fumed at the dismissive nature of the woman.

"No, you misunderstand. I am looking to hire you for training." Governess elaborated but was stopped before she could continue by the woman.

"Aren't you the one traveling with the seven-foot tall black knight? Have him train you."

"The training isn't for me," Governess explained, earning a quirked eyebrow from Female Knight's companion as the woman herself seemed to freeze, "Deathtrooper, for all his skill, was never trained to use swords."

Any sense of aloofness Female Knight held was lost when Governess made that announcement, those who were listening as well freezing. The woman turned so fast, Governess was certain she had just teleported. There was a disbelieving, outraged look on her face.

"He has an ancient, Elven made sword, and you're telling me he can't even use it?!" The woman demanded, earning a small grin from Governess, "How in the name of the Goddess of Justice did her kill the demon, then?"

"With explosives," Governess stated bluntly, her sweet tone of voice unaffected by the extreme reaction of Female Knight.

"Black powder. He used _black powder_ to kill a Demon?" The woman repeated, slowly, her composure fighting its way back. Governess merely continued to smile, neither confirming nor denying the woman's question.

"I never would have had him pegged for an alchemist, but if he killed an actual Demon with black powder… Okay, I'll do it, how much are you offering?" The woman sounded excited, it was rather poorly hidden behind the weakened state of her aloof attitude, evidently wishing to learn more about the man himself.

"Five gold per day to train him."

"Make it eight."

"Six," Governess countered, knowing full well their money supply would not last until they found work.

"Six… And information of the dungeon you two and those two Obsidians cleared."

"Deal, meet us at the Inn down the street in an hour," Governess bowed her head and left, looking nothing like the shrewd negotiator she was. Naturally, everyone seemed shocked at how willingly she would give up information about the dungeon, giving another group an equal playing field, but Governess didn't much care.

She, and by extension Deathtrooper, were never going anywhere near another one of those death pits so long as they lived.

* * *

It was an hour later, nearly by the minute if Governesses watch was correct, when Female Knight and her partner arrived, fully kitted up. Governess regarded them with a kind smile, standing in front of the Inn. Deathtrooper had been missing, meaning he had probably returned to where they trained the day before.

"Greetings again, I guess we should get the introductions out of the way, no?" Governess asked, bowing her head, "I am Governess." As she rose, Governess spotted the slightly amused glance shared by the duo before they spoke.

"I'm Female Knight, this is my partner, Heavy Warrior. He's more here to watch because I can't trust him to be on his own for longer than thirty seconds."

"Oi!" Governess giggled at their exchange, earning small grins from the duo.

"Well, now that we are all introduced, I shall bring you to Deathtrooper."

"Lead the way," Female Knight agreed, and with that, the three of them set off. Governess led them to the closest of the entrances to town, down through a small wooded area that led into the clearing they had used for her physical training, or as she liked to call it, actual torture.

Deathtrooper was there using a metal pole he had stuck between the branches of two trees as his pull-up bar. Naturally, he was in his full armor, save the helmet that lay forgotten nearby. He was moving at a steady pace, neither pausing nor slowing down his work out, evidently not noticing their arrival.

Of course, Governess knew better than that, given how his helmet was propped so that it would be purposely propped up with the opening facing him. He had probably set up an array of sensors around himself, a point driven home when he dropped and turned to face them. As a further show of just how far apart they were when it came to physical ability, there was barely even a sheen of sweat over his naturally pale face.

"Who's this?" He asked in form of greeting, eyeing Female Knight and Heavy Warrior with a mix of distrust and nonchalance, a cool and calm expression setting into his face. Female Knight looked taken aback at his rather rude tone while Heavy Warrior's lips turned upwards slightly in a sign of amusement.

"This is Female Knight and Heavy Warrior, I contracted her to serve as your tutor in the art of swordplay." Governess explained, earning a slight frown from him as he studied the woman with an inquisitive eye.

"I fail to see why this is necessary." He ground out, looking rather annoyed with her. Governesses sweet smile, which failed to fool or dissuade Deathtrooper nowadays, returned full force as she spoke, though there was a barely veiled dark amusement hidden in its depths.

"Well, given how hard you have been training me over these last few days, I decided I should return the favor." She said, Deathtrooper's scowl only deepening at her words and he turned, again, to the newcomers. After sizing them up, he turned his gaze back to Governess, speaking frankly.

"I, again, fail to see what either of them could teach me." The twin looks of pure outrage on the duo's faces were rather amusing to Governess, but Deathtrooper needed to be trained to use his one… Okay, _other_ close ranged weapon properly. Technically, he could just punch smaller creatures, but one never knew how useful a blade could become in future engagements.

"Well, unlike you, she knows how to use a sword. It could be useful in fights in which punching isn't a viable option," She put a little more force in her voice, the sweet tone vanishing. She would not back down from this, and he knew it. With a defeated sigh, the man pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Fine, fine." He folded, putting up a defeated hand and bowing his head. Governesses sweetness returned sevenfold, and as she turned to the duo, it was under their confused and partially worried eyes.

"Mister Heavy Warrior, perhaps we should stand aside and allow them to train without obstacles." Governess stated, indicating to a nearby set up of rocks that had been moved by Deathtrooper earlier. The man sent a panicked glance to his partner before following Governess to the indicated spot.

As she sat, he remained standing.

"Okay, I want to see what you're capable of before I start listing improvements. Draw your sword and try to break my defenses." Female Knight announced regally, drawing her blade from the scabbard on her hip. Deathtrooper wordlessly complied, his own blade flashing into his hand.

Unlike hers, which was a rather nice looking silver, Deathtrooper's sword seemed to glow under the sunlight, glittering and gleaming like some sort of treasure. One look at Female Knight's look of disappointment at her own lackluster sword brought a smile to Governesses face, though it seemed Deathtrooper didn't much care for the clear quality of his sword.

He shifted his stance, right foot ahead and left foot place behind as he pointed the sword at the dirt in front of him.

"Begin!" Female Knight, her moment of longing for Deathtrooper's sword gone, ordered, bringing her shield up in preparation for his attack.

Deathtrooper did not disappoint, closing the distance in a mere moment and batting aside her shield with his off hand. For a second, Female Knight seemed shocked by this, but the woman rolled with the slash. Letting her shield fall to one side, she dodged along with it, completely avoiding Deathtrooper's lunge. Instead of falling flat on his face, as anyone else would have after such a risky attack, Deathtrooper dropped into a dive roll, coming back onto his feet with little more than a little dirt on his armor.

It was bizarre, seeing face whilst he was in combat. There was no strain or concentration, like with Female Knight, but instead a cool, calculating indifference at the fight. It was jarring as well as slightly terrifying, given how viciously he was attacking Female Knight.

His next swing was parried by her sword, her shield following behind as she bashed him back a pace or two. Deathtrooper was, however, not deterred, launching another string of assaults in the form of speedy slashes and stabs. The movements, however, seemed slow and unstable, or as much as they could be with Deathtrooper.

"It's like he's fighting with a dagger, or trying to," Heavy Warrior observed as the duo went back and forth, Female Knight rebuking each of Deathtrooper's increasingly vicious attacks, "I'm guessing that was his preferred weapon previously?" Governess shook her head, however.

"No, but he was trained to use them."

"I see, this is pretty common for former knife trained individuals. He's fast, far faster than someone of his size has any right being, and but sadly speed is not that driving force behind using swords. They are made to incapacitate a foe in one fell swoop, not several stabs and slashes."

"Ah," Governess said, not really understanding but figuring the man knew what he was talking about. They both continued to watch in silence as another vicious bash from Female Knight's shield sent Deathtrooper back a meter or so.

* * *

Several days had passed since Governess pushed the sword training regime upon Deathtrooper, and she had soon learned the man was not going to take that lying down. Because of the 'time lost training with swords', Deathtrooper began pressing as much work upon her as he could before he left to continue training with Female Knight.

One of his new practices was stealth, a skill he claimed would be quite useful when dealing with the worst this world had to offer. Her small stature and general agility, which had only gotten better over her training thus far, made Governess rather good at hiding out among bushes and undergrowth.

It was one of their 'wargames' so to speak, where the duo entered a small wooded area on opposite sides. Their task was to use the stun features on their respective blasters, her with the E-11 and he with the DLT-19, and stun their opponent. Whoever stunned the other won, and she had yet to win. This was the third time they played the little game, the first time he took her out instantly. The second time, he toyed with her, tracking and terrifying her at every corner before, finally, taking pity upon the young woman and stunning her.

This time… Well, Governess wasn't expecting it to go any better. He was better trained than she was, better armed, and had a helmet with a number of nifty features that made her stand out like a miniature sun. She could try, however.

As such, Governess had herself placed in a bush alongside the main road cutting through the forest, camouflaged by the mud and dirt staining her clothing and skin. It was bizarre, thinking back to a time so long ago where the thought of lying in the mud with a blaster in hand would have disgusted her, but now it was the key to survival.

A sound attracted her attention, not that she worried it was Deathtrooper. No, he could be virtually silent at times so she wouldn't be hearing him.

Instead, a collection of teenagers around her age appeared around the bend of the path speaking amicably to one another as they went without a care in the world. Others had passed before, so Governess relaxed and merely sat in wait until they passed and she could adjust herself.

The first two passed without issue, talking loudly and animatedly about what they would do to the goblins they were hunting.

The first, a young man, seemed to have only a chestplate and leather arm and legs guards as his armor. The sword on his back seemed horrible for cave fighting, it was a longsword after all, but she was no expert on the weapons. She only remembered because Female Knight went into a long, preachy talk about the many kinds of swords and their designated uses.

The other, a young woman, was dressed in some strange combination of robes and work-out clothing, which hung loosely from her body. She had no clear weapon, which raised the question of what it was she offered to this party.

It was the third, however, that was the problem, a young woman with a rather serious and self-important expression. She was trailing a few paces behind the first two, though not as far back as the last of their small company. The young woman, unlike the other two, paused next to Governess, a look of confusion on her face.

 _Sithspit._

"Who's there?!" The woman demanded, stepping back and raising her staff, aiming it at the bushes in which Governess was hidden. The two ahead faltered, looking where their partner was aiming her staff before acting. The young man drew his sword, dashing over to her side as the other, with raised fists, appeared on the other. The last was ushered behind the group, her blond hair, once again, drawing an ounce of jealousness from Governess.

With a sigh, Governess put her hands up and rose, after slinging the blaster over her back. The others, clearly not expecting her arrival, flinched as the mud-covered, camouflaged Governess rose elegantly to her feet.

"Alright, let's calm it down," She said calmly, hands still raised as she took a step forward, the lot of them taking a reflexive step back.

"Who are you, and why were you hiding in a bush?" The only male of the group demanded, his blade still raised as he scrutinized her appearance. Governess offered a lopsided smile, trying to think of the best way to explain what was happening.

"Err… Training exercise." She tried to sound confident in her answer as if this were the most common thing in the world.

"Training exercise?" Asked the woman who had spotted Governess with an incredulous tone of voice, her staff still aimed directly at the camouflaged woman's chest.

"Aye, stealth," At their confused looks, she elaborated, "Sneaking around? Learning to blend in with one's surroundings?"

"We know what stealth is!" Snapped the woman, looking equal parts scared and annoyed, Governess assumed the former was her current… _Look,_ "Are you just hiding next to the road, seeing if anyone can spot you?" Governess scoffed at that, evidently catching the woman off-guard as she flinched at the sound.

"Hardly, I'm hiding from-" And then she saw it, a faint blue glow in the part of the forest opposite of her hiding spot, becoming brighter by the millisecond as it approached. It was a stun blast from a blaster.

"Down!" She shouted, tackling the woman who had her staff leveled at Governesses chest. Her yelp of terror was silenced as the stun blast hurtled overhead, evaporating against a tree.

Governess took a knee, still shielding the other woman with her body, and returned fire in the direction the bolt had come from. To no avail, as it dissipated against another tree, Deathtrooper had moved.

"Blast!" She growled, rising and retreating back towards her side of the road, eyeing the shoulder for any sign of the black-suited man.

"W-What was that?" Stuttered the woman who was still laying on the ground. Governess didn't respond, eyes still open for any sign of her assailant. It seemed, however, that even Deathtrooper couldn't resist a wide-open target if the following stun blast was anything to go by.

Governess ducked beneath the crackling energy, returning fire but, once again, missing her mark. Deathtrooper dropped into a roll, exiting the bushes and landing on the road. Screams came from the prone woman and the blonde girl, and for very good reason. His jet black armor, as immaculate as ever, seemed to be even more intimidating in the dim of the forest's canopy, even with the duo of glowing, green lights peering down at them.

Governess, however, was not intimidated… As much, and fired her blaster again. While the shot didn't hit the man, as he had begun moving again, it did slam into the side of his heavy blaster. A grunt came from his helmet as he tossed it aside, the metallic weapon crackling with the energy of the blast. Governess allowed herself a small smile of victory, but it was too early a sign. Deathtrooper closed the distance between them, grabbing just behind the barrel with one hand and pushing the blaster wide. Governesses grip up at the front of the blaster loosened as her aim was thrown off, but Deathtrooper didn't stop there. His free hand swung, slamming into the side of the gun nearest to her other hand. The force was enough to make Governess release the blaster, sending it careening away into the dust of the road.

Governess, not wanting to be within grabbing range of Deathtrooper, used him as a stable centerpiece from which she pushed her back from. There were a couple of meters between them now as she retreated a few more paces. Deathtrooper, surprisingly, didn't charge, instead stepping a few feet to the left, planting himself…

Right between her and the only blaster that she could use, blast. Governess was not so confident in herself that she believed she would ever be able to stand toe-to-toe with Deathtrooper in hand-to-hand combat. He, also, made no moves for the blaster that was now open for grabs, meaning he fully intended to finish this with his hands, joy abound.

Governess needed that blaster if she wanted to win this little exercise, but how? An idea, a rather poor one and one that would likely not fool him, took form in her head. It would have to suffice in her bid to bypass Deathtrooper, so she acted.

Governess faked diving right, and to her great surprise, Deathtrooper followed her in that direction. Governess quickly changed directions, watching with hope as the man stumbled, trying to reverse directions as well upon revealing his mistake

Governess dove, essentially landing on the blaster. She spun around, aiming the blaster of her knees only to find a long, black rod flying at her at, what seemed to be, mach three. She didn't have time to comprehend that it was a taser when the stick met her chest. A sharp feeling of pain filled her body before everything went black.

* * *

Governess didn't know how long she was out, but it was evidently enough to put some serious pain in her neck and back. The young, and now former, politician sat up, rubbing the back of her head as she studied where it was she was laying.

As her memory came back to her, she remembered that this was where she and Deathtrooper had dueled, and yet again, she had lost. It was a saddening thought, and she had seemed so close to beating him this time.

"You're awake, took you long enough," Came the gruff, and unaltered, voice of Deathtrooper from somewhere behind her. Governess tried to turn only to immediately regret that decision as her muscles screamed in agony. Instead, she remained where she was and talked to the trooper over her shoulder.

"How long was I out?"

"About half an hour," He responded amusedly, even though her plight was, in her opinion, the least funny thing in the galaxy.

"What did you throw at me?" Governess asked, a sudden throb of pain on her chest reminding her how she had been dispatched.

"A taser I looted from the shuttle before setting it to detonate, not very useful as it requires part of my very limited battery pack array, but it may have saved me a humiliating defeat."

"So, you admit I could have won?" Governess asked, her chest swelling at the implied compliment, only to be stomped down by his brutal honesty.

"Not likely. I will admit, it was arrogant of me to give you so many chances. Hell, I was watching you for, about, ten minutes before that party showed. I wanted to end it before they did something rather moronic." He explained with a complete disinterest in how it stung her pride to hear that not only could he have dispatched her for ten minutes, but also gave her a multitude of chances to beat him.

Deathtrooper, likely now sensing her shame and defeat, spoke again with an apologetic tone of voice.

"Sorry. Look, I've got every advantage, save size, part in thanks to this helmet, you really didn't stand a chance from the beginning. This is about training, not you beating me."

Governess sighed, though his words rang true it still hurt. She, instead, decided to change subjects

"Did you catch their names? They looked pretty new, and I don't recognize them from the Guild."

"Oh, yeah. After they realized that I wasn't a monster, we did some introductions. Their names were… Fighter, Warrior, Wizard… And… I think her name was Priestess."

"Huh," In actuality, Governess didn't much care. Her mind had already traveled to a far more pressing matter, though today's training was done, what hell would Deathtrooper put her through tomorrow?


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I own neither Star Wars nor Goblin Slayer because if I did I would rewrite all of the new movies into a** _ **likable**_ **mess, save Rogue One.**

 **Krennic makes that movie perfect.**

* * *

 **Deathtrooper**

 **Chapter 7**

 **Breathless**

* * *

Nearly a month of training had passed, nearly a month of hell itself as Deathtrooper pushed Governess to the limits of her abilities with weapons and mind alike. A month of hard work and effort, all culminating down to the little, pale white badge held in her hands, a necklace chain hanging loosely from it.

Finally, Deathtrooper believed her ready to go out and adventure, to finally be of use to their continued survival on this planet. Sure, she had been decent with a sporting pistol one month ago, but now she could finally fight at a more competent level with the blaster rifle slung over her back!

While a month hadn't really been enough for her to build any significant muscle, Governesses stamina and perception had grown leaps and bounds from where they had started.

"With these badges," Governess looked up from her silent introspection look at Guild Girl, who held her usually kindly smile, "You are allowed to take any Porcelain Ranked mission or job, though if you join a party with a higher rank, you can join any job they can do. You are unable to proceed to the next rank until a month of holding you current rank has passed." Governess scowled at that last portion of information, while the Guild recognized their achievements 'rules were still rules'. Hell, half the Gild worshipped the ground Deathtrooper walked on due to his killing of a Demon General, albeit an old, once defeated one. Many had even taken to calling him 'Demon Slayer', an inside joke in reference to the ever elusive 'Goblin Slayer'. When questioned, many explained him as an odd man who hunted one thing and one thing only, goblins. He was quiet, blunt, and allegedly skilled. That was how many drew the comparisons between Deathtrooper and this Goblin Slayer.

" _Deathtrooper is basically the better Goblin Slayer," One partially drunk adventurer stated to the agreeable nods of his comrades, "'cept he kills Demons."_

Of course, Deathtrooper had killed only one Demon, and it had nearly cost him his life. Still, that didn't stop the word-of-mouth travel and escalation of the rumors. While locals knew he had only killed one, newcomers to the town traveled to meet the alleged 'Demon Slayer', hearing that he cut down Demons with such skill and precision that he came from every battle untouched.

Governess peered over at the man in question, who was looping his necklace over the blaster-resistant mesh he wore beneath his armor. It clashed horribly with the armor, pure white against jet black, but it shouldn't be too long until they were the next rank.

He turns back to Guild Girl, his voice slightly distorted as he speaks with the emotionless cadence he usually uses for strangers and those he doesn't know. It seems, even though he had been rather detached from the Empire as of late, Deathtrooper is still trying to intimidate everyone he meets into submission.

"Can we take a job immediately?" He asked, but Guild Girl was not a woman to be so easily intimidated by his imposing figure and bizarre voice. She dealt with all sorts of traditionally 'intimidating' people, and thought Deathtrooper seemed to take the cake, Guild Girl merely regarded him with a smile.

"Of course," She announced sweetly, turning to look at the board along the wall to her left, "There aren't many Porcelain ranked jobs left, but I'm sure you'll find one!"

"Thank you," Deathtrooper said with a nod, walking away and studying the board. For whatever reason, even the languages on the board were in Aurebesh, which made no sense as this planet lacked connection to the standard galactic script or language.

"How does it feel?" Governess was, once again, wrenched from her thinking by the voice of Guild Girl.

"Pardon?" Governess asked, feeling slightly embarrassed she had not been paying the older woman any attention.

"I asked: 'How does it feel?' As is, how does it feel to be an adventurer now?" Guild Girl, kindly, reiterated.

"Oh, it feels… Liberating, I guess. As if I am finally some use." Governess knew it wouldn't make much sense to Guild Girl, but the woman nodded her agreement regardless.

"If you would pardon my rudeness, Lady Governess, but you remind me of another girl who had passed through here not too long ago. She was a swordsman, armed with a rapier. She, too, was of a more wealthy background, but for one reason or another decided to become an adventurer," Guild Girl explained, looking off into the distance as she seemed to struggle to remember the girl, "Now that I think of it, I can't remember her name… She passes through every once in a while, but never stays to chat."

"Huh." Governess failed to see how that other woman was anything like her, but she was spared from asked by the arrival of Deathtrooper once more.

He was holding one of he tannish parchments, setting it down on the counter and turning the paper so that Guild Girl could read it. Governess, unable to read it upside down, waited for someone to elaborate on what she was being dragged into.

"Goblins?" Asked Guild Girl, a distinct emotionless sound filling her once kind tone of voice, her eyes seeming to become glossy for a moment or two.

"Best to start with something I know I can kill with relative ease," Deathtrooper explained gruffly, clearly unaware of the woman's tonal shift. She quickly came back to the present, a forced smile returning to her face. Her eyes darted side-to-side for a moment before she leaned in and spoke in a near whisper.

"Perhaps that… Isn't the best way to start." She tried to reason, but Governess didn't much understand why. Deathtrooper carved through goblins like they were nothing, and Governess was sure she could hold her own against the beasts for a while. So what would elicit such a reaction from Guild Girl at the mere mention of goblins?

"Why?" Deathtrooper, naturally without an iota of tact, demanded of Guild Girl. The woman flinched, once again looking to the sides. Her usual co-worker was gone, so she continued.

"Goblin jobs have, on average, the largest number of adventurer fatalities out of any other job. I… Can I get your assurances that what I say will not be shared?" She asked, her voice little more than a whisper, eyes darting over to the adventurers nearby, who seemed to not notice her sudden change in demeanor.

"It depends on what it is that you're going to tell us." Governess countered, Deathtrooper smartly remaining quiet.

"We… aren't allowed to stop newcomers from taking goblin quests, because if they all knew the threat… Well, no one really takes them in the first place save Porcelain Ranked adventurers. They don't pay enough for higher ranked adventurers and tend to… lead to the deaths of the lower ranked ones."

"So why are you telling us this?" Governess asked incredulously, arms folding as she stared into the eyes of the older woman. While the age discrepancy would have hindered someone else in this circumstance, Governess was a former politician-in-training and Guild Girl, with all her kindness and niceties, dealt with bumbling adventurers most days.

"I… To be completely honest, Sir Deathtrooper is very good for business," The woman was flushed now, doing her damnedest to not make eye contact or even look at Deathtrooper, "Having the man known as the 'Demon Slayer' here leads to a rather large influx of new adventurers, new adventurers means more jobs are getting completed which means the Guild gets a bigger cut. Should you two die…" She cocked her head to one side and grimaced. Governess rolled her eyes, realizing Guild Girl was basically a merchant of a sort, cashing in on other people's hard work. She would have detested it had she not yearned for a such a job herself, being paid without working seemed like a wonderful idea to her.

"I see," Deathtrooper stated bluntly, his voice the usually emotionless husk that it was. Governess rolled her eyes, turning her attention back to Guild Girl.

"It's well within our abilities to take care of goblins, Guild Girl." Governess pointed out with a confident smirk, goblins, after all, didn't own blasters or the means to defend against them. Guild Girl still looked town, but upon finally looking up to the helmeted face of Deathtrooper, seemed to make up her mind.

With a sigh, she reached under the front desk and withdrew a stack of neatly folded papers. After a moment or two of sifting through them, she withdrew one and handed it over to Governess.

"This is a map leading to the location of the town. They weren't specific as to where the goblin den was, but I'm certain you find out once you reach the town, good luck."

"Thank you, and don't worry. We don't intend to die, so you can still milk Deathtrooper's notoriety as much as possible." Guild Girl offered an embarrassed, albeit wry, grin. She dipped her head as a goodbye when they left.

"We'll probably want to rent a cart, have everything we need?" Governess started when the left the building, headed in the direction of the shop that rented carriages.

"I've cleared technically two goblin dens now, we won't need much more than our blasters for this." Deathtrooper chuckled darkly patting the butt of his heavy blaster rifle, which was still slung over his back. Governess nodded in agreement, goblins were weak and simple creatures so it would be child's play. He continued, "There should be no reason to head back to the room to grab more."

They came to the shop, Governess ordering Deathtrooper to wait outside before entering herself. It took a bit of haggling on her part, the owner of the establishment seemed of the idea that her age directly correlated with her intelligence. Eventually, a horse, carriage, and driver were paid for in full by Governess, the owner stating that it would take a few minutes to collect all three and get them set up.

Stepping outside, she was confronted by two newcomers, who had joined Deathtrooper in his waiting.

"Lady Governess!" Exclaimed Female Knight with a mix of joy and respect, beaming down at the younger woman, "I see you've decided to join this blockhead in becoming adventurers." The jab seemed to not effect Deathtrooper, who merely watched the exchange without a word.

Governess regarded the woman with an equally bright smile, having found some form of friendship with her over the past month or so. She seemed to instinctively keep everyone, bar her partner to whom she displayed poorly shielded attraction, at a distance. Likely due having lost too many loved ones, Female Knight refused to let anyone get to close.

Heavy Warrior, on the other hand, was not so reserved. He slung an arm around Deathtrooper's shoulders, a challenging task given that the size discrepancy was so great.

"Finally, thought you were going to let all that talent go to waste! What's first on the chopping block?" The man asked Deathtrooper, he seemed unperturbed by the man proximity.

"Goblins," Deathtrooper stated bluntly, this seemed to continue being a running theme with him.

"Oh…" Heavy Warrior sounded a little disappointed at the fact, but he bounced back fast, "Well, we've all gotta start somewhere, eh?"

"Yes." Agreed Deathtrooper, but they were, alas, saved from any more nuggets of wisdom from the man of few syllables as a large barn door opened, revealing a horse-drawn cart.

"We've got to be going, see you two when we get back!" Governess announced, jogging up to the back of the cart and clambering in. Deathtrooper followed, albeit at a slower pace, before being stopped by Female Knight.

"You'd best not die, Sir Deathtrooper. I'm being paid good gold to train you to use that glorified mail opener of yours, and I'd rather not lose that avenue of income." She stated jokingly, staring up into where his eyes would be while jabbing his chestplate.

"Okay." He responded before turning and getting on the cart. It shifted, slightly, due to his own and his armor's combined weights. Governess poked her head out of the cart, waving goodbye to the other two as the cart set off.

Excitement and anticipation laced her bones as she prepared herself for their coming mission- No, _adventure_.

* * *

It took the better part of the day, a stark contrast compared to how long it took them to _reach_ Frontier Town when they arrived at the village. It was quaint, smaller than even the first village they had stayed in so long ago now.

There were, maybe, a dozen buildings, all standing at one story tall. They all seemed to just be houses, likely everyone here did their business in Frontier Town, it was the largest town in the area that Governess knew about.

Their driver, who hadn't even needed their map as he knew the area so well, talked about the town and local area. Frontier Town, it seemed, was near the edge of the territory of the local government, though their driver either couldn't or wouldn't give a name. So its name was, as everything seemingly was in this world, what it literally was. Governess, if she were a betting woman, would wager that the village was known as 'Farming Village', or 'Fishing Village', or 'Whatever-This-Village's-Main-Product-Is Village'.

The driver pulled off to the side of one of the buildings, stating that he would here until they either returned or until the rent ran out which was three days. Governess nodded her thanks and walked into the town.

It was starting to get late, so whatever hustle and bustle there may have been was now lost. There were, to their luck, people wandering around. It was just a matter of asking them to point the duo in the direction of someone they should be talking to about the job. Eventually, after three people, they found their way into the 'office' of the local guard captain, the captain of an astounding two men. The 'office' was just tucked away in the corner of their one-room 'barracks'. No wonder this place was having issues with goblins, the 'captain' was the only one of the three who seemed to not only be competent but also physically fit. The other, who had been asleep when they arrived, was a short, pudgy man who barely fit into his uniform and the other, who was supposedly on watch near the site where the goblins were located, rarely showed up to work most days anyway.

"If I had more people," The man explained, scowling at his sleeping subordinate, "Than there wouldn't be a problem, but I can't fight an army of goblins alone and these two bumbling idiots are useless outside of breaking up drunken brawls… Brawls _they_ are typically involved in…"

"What can you tell us about the goblins?" Deathtrooper asked, Governess allowing him to take over now that they were on the part of strategy and combat. The guard captain, evidently also noting the change in tone, leaned forward and spoke with an urgent tone directed at the both of them.

"They've set themselves up in an abandoned mineshaft, we know of only one entrance and exit, the main gate. They likely have made more, but that's all we know about. They attack the town at random intervals, usually coming in groups of around twenty or so. Typical goblin supplies." Typical goblin supplies likely meant rocks, spears, knives, and bows. Nothing too dangerous.

"Do you know if they have any surviving prisoners?" Governess flinched, it the question that needed to be asked, but Deathtrooper seemed to forget that such a thing as _tact_ existed. If there were prisoners, that would limit the weapons and tactics they could use for the job. Governess would have liked nothing better than just detonating the entrances and letting the little bastards suffocate, but saving the women also became a priority. The guard captain also flinched, but responded with an unwavering voice, even as sadness fell over his eyes.

"We… Don't know. They've taken five of the girls, the last one being two days ago." Deathtrooper gave a brisk nod, rising from his seat.

"Point us in the direction of the entrance, we'll take care of things," Deathtrooper announced, slinging his blaster and activating. While the low, dangerous-sounding hum of the heavy blaster seemed to alarm the guard captain, he drew out a map and spoke without fear. Using a quill and ink, he circled where the entrance to the old mine was.

"It's about four kilometers long, they gave up due to the local lord having some sort of disagreement with the mine owner. They've been arguing about it for damn near twenty years, not that the mine is even worth it anymore. It has deteriorated beyond repair, and had the goblins not taken up shop we would have just collapsed the thing. We haven't got a clue how big their force it, the parties they send aren't a good basis to guess on." The man explained, rolling the map up and making to hand it off to Deathtrooper. Deathtrooper, however, refused with the raising of a hand.

"I've got it, let's move," The last part was directed at Governess, whos stirred silently at his words. She rose to her feet, bowed to the man, and followed her companion out.

"So, what's the plan?" Governess asked after a few moments of silent walking. Deathtrooper held up three of his fingers.

"Go in, blast goblins, leave," With each part of his clearly thought out plan, Deathtrooper put down a finger. Governess raised an eyebrow, amusement in her tone as she spoke.

"How intricate and devious, I thought you were supposed to be special operations."

"These are goblins, they have about as much ability to kill me as a womp rat."

"Famous last words," Governess warned, but she agreed with him. Goblins, based on what she had seen, were useless in combat against the firepower they possessed.

The duo continued on in silence, making their way to the entrance of the mine shaft. Upon reaching it, Deathtrooper took a knee and held up a fist. Governess followed suit, sans the fist.

"Goblins, four, all on guard it seems. Armed with… two spears, an ax, and a bow." Governess slipped to his left, bringing up her blaster and peering through its scope. Adjusting the sights slightly, she spied the goblins in question.

"Wasn't there supposed to be a guard?" She asked with a whisper, Deathtrooper merely shrugging in response. Whoever he was, hopefully, he didn't get in the way.

"Take the bowman, I'll take the ax. Fire on my mark."

"Copy." Deathtrooper raised his heavy blaster rifle, peering down the scope as Governess took aim on the only one armed with a ranged weapon. A pregnant moment of tension passed by slowly, Governess feeling equal parts worried and excited for her first real combat operation. She was here, not as baggage for Deathtrooper but as an equal… somewhat.

A shot rang out from his blaster, quickly followed by hers. Both crimson bolts found their mark, his smashing into the face of the goblin while hers found its way to the chest. Both fell, instantly dead as the other two scrambled to figure out what had happened. Deathtrooper didn't spare a moment, squeezing out two more shots before Governess even had time to get them into her sights.

"Clear," He said after a moment of sweeping the local area for any more goblins. Without a word, he rose from his crouch and began creeping towards the entrance, blaster still raised. Governess followed, no more than a pace or two behind him with her eyes open as well. They made it about halfway before Deathtrooper stopped, his fist up. Wordlessly, Governess stopped as well, waiting for him to point out the issue. Instead of speaking, he slowly freed the pistol from his hip and, almost to fast for Governess to follow, twisted left. Governess followed the now-leveled pistol to the form of a man sitting up against a tree.

For a second, Governess believed him to be asleep, but when she made to walk over to him, Deathtrooper squeezed the trigger. Instead of the bolt slamming into the man, as she expected, it instead found its mark in the darkness. A cry of brief agony came from the shadows as a goblin, who had been hiding with a bloodied knife, collapsed. Putting two and two together, Governess looked at the body again. In the dim, she could just make out the red stain along the front of his uniform, likely originating from his neck.

"Poor bastard," Governess murmured as Deathtrooper walked over to the body. He forced the man's head up, earning a slight gag from Governess as she was forced to look at his mutilated face.

"They tortured him before death, typical…" Deathtrooper let the man's head fall again and turned for face Governess, still speaking, "We'll report this to the captain when we get back, for now, move out." Governess had no complaint getting as far from the body as humanly possible. They continued to the bodies of the goblins, and to Governesses surprise, one of them was still alive. It was the goblin she had hit, evidently the blaster's power wasn't enough to kill it with a lower chest shot, though it seemed damn close. She raised her blaster to finish the job but was stopped by Deathtrooper.

"Save the ammo," Was all he said as, with his off hand, the man drew his sword. From there he simply ran the blade through the back of the goblin's head, as it had been trying to crawl away. It slumped immediately with no more fuss, save the blood that poured from its new wound. Governess, despite her now immense dislike for the creatures, couldn't help but to avert her eyes as Deathtrooper cleaned his blade off and sheathed it.

"Let's move, I want to get this place cleared before nightfall," He said raising his blaster and pressing towards the entrance. Governess followed her own blaster pointed at the slightly dilapidated entrance to the mine.

The gate seemed to have collapsed over the years, one of the beams have seemingly snapped in half and caving half of it in. Deathtrooper crouched down and slipped down, Governess faltering for a moment before following him in.

It was near pitch black inside, whatever light source having once illuminated the halls now long gone. Before she could bring this issue up with Deathtrooper, however, a light-activated automatically on the barrel of her blaster. It was a wide cone, easily able to encompass the entire passage had she just aimed down it.

"I'll take the front," Deathtrooper began ordering, "You watch our six for any hostiles."

"Copy," While Governess didn't know all of his 'military lingo', she had a basic enough understanding on what means what in a given situation one might commonly find themselves in.

Well, as common as hunting goblins can be, anyway.

They moved silently, meeting no resistance for the first few minutes. Governesses cone of light moved slowly and methodically over the former mines' walls. There was no sign of trouble, or so they had believed.

Perhaps no later than five minutes after entering the mine, which seemed to go indefinitely in one direction, a sound drew the duo's attention. The scuffle of feet and clatter of metallic weapons was joined by the heavy, uneven breathing of creatures distinctly inhuman. From crevices, which had been hidden even from Deathtrooper's eagle-eyed vision, leaped goblins, their blades pointed towards the duo.

"3 o'clock!" Deathtrooper snapped, taking a knee and firing his oversized blaster into their midsts. The first two goblins were blasted apart by that shot, but this did little to dissuade the others from their attack. Governess joined, firing her own blaster into the group. While her shots were not as accurate as those from Deathtrooper, she still managed to average a goblin for every two bolts, decent if one were to not consider the number of goblins. The duo was forced to the opposite wall, thankfully devoid of positions for an ambush. Deathtrooper, now hindered by the size of his blaster, opted to instead toss it aside and brandish his elven sword. This did give the goblins pause, forcing them to a staggering halt as the blade seemed to glow in the dim. Their quiet mutterings eventually gave way to a single word:

"Elf!" It was filled with such hate that Governess could feel her stomach lurch. The goblins renewed their attack with increased vigor, blades glinting in what little light there was in the cavern. Deathtrooper's training with the blade, however, seemed to pay off in spades. With graceful slices and cleaves, his brilliant sword became a blur of silver and blood, carving through the goblins like wheat to the scythe.

Governess provided what covering fire she could, but soon the goblins were all butchered even those who attempted to escape Deathtrooper's brutal dance of death.

The last one was dispatched with a brutal kick to the back of its head, the crunch following telling Governess of its fate.

"... 26 here, I think this is more than a small nest, come on. We need to keep moving," Deathtrooper, using some of the goblin's bodies, barricaded the entrance they had used to ambush the duo. Governess nodded in agreement, silent as she maneuvered her way around the bodies that Deathtrooper merely kicked aside.

They didn't travel even ten minutes before another ambush was launched, this time from a separate pathway. Governess, who had been unaware of the ambush until it was almost too late, was harshly thrown aside by Deathtroope, who took the arrow meant for her. It did nothing to her armor, splitting in half as it met the hard plasteel armor he was adorned in.

His blaster was the only response he gave to the goblins, bright red bolts of plasma showing their demise like some sort of macabre cartoon from the stone ages. After searching the place from which the goblins had come, the duo found several small tunnels coming from the dead end. Repeating what he did at the last tunnel, he filled each of them with the fallen bodies of the goblins before, without a word, moving on.

The further they went, it seemed, the greater in volume and frequency the goblins would attack. No more than five minutes had passed before another group of thirty goblins made their debut, only to find the barrels of an irate Governess and merciless Deathtrooper pressed firmly in their faces.

The issue, Governess came to realize as she shook out her hand for what felt like the thirtieth time, was not the goblins themselves but the blasters. The blaster she was using didn't have much in terms of ammo to begin with, and soon she would be relegated to the pistol which in turn also didn't have many shots. Deathtrooper, part in thanks to his pinpoint accuracy, was not as affected by the shortage of ammunition but affected nonetheless. After all, they only had so many charge packs for the larger of the three blasters.

Governesses musings came to a stop, however, as a glint in the dim of the mineshaft drew her attention. There, maybe a few feet in past the range of the lantern was a small glint, like light reflecting off of metal.

Governess reacted before she truly thought about what that glint may be, firing reflexively at it. One crimson blaster bolt sailed between her and the object, briefly illuminating it to be a sword conveniently stuck into the wood of a support beam.

A support beam that seemed to already be derelict. She realized her mistake too late as the bolt crashed into the rotting, barely standing beam. It burned away what little still held it together, collapsing the beam inwards. This started a chain reaction as its partner, to which it was connected by a beam across the ceiling, followed. The ceiling caved, and for the briefest of moments, Governess feared this mine would be her tomb.

Deathtrooper, however, had other plans. His arm was around her lower torso in a moment, quite literally throwing her several meters and out of harm's way. He was quick to follow as several meters of support beams crumpled under the increased pressure.

The collapsing of the ceiling seemed the find its way through the entire cavern, blasting coal dust everywhere and filling the air with a black cloud. Governess sucked in a breath reflexively, it had, after all, forced the air from her lungs to be thrown in such a manner. He lungs protested against the air offered, as it was filled with the dust from coal. She immediately broke into a fit of violent coughing, trying the breath while at the same time her lungs viciously fought back.

Deathtrooper, though Governess couldn't really know this from the fact that her eyes were streaming, had risen and was searching their immediate area. The goblins, no doubt, had heard the commotion and would be converging on their position to see what had happened. They would have to either die here, backs to the wall, or fight their way out.

And Deathtrooper wasn't really up to dying today.

Kneeling at Governesses side, he withdrew a cloth and wet it with one of his water flasks.

"Here," He stated, tying the cloth over her nose and mouth, "It isn't much, but it should help." Governess nodded her thanks, still unable to talk as she continued to violently cough. The cool cloth was an immediate relief, and though she still coughed rather violently, she was able to actually breathe.

"We need to move," He stated after a moment of letting her catch her breath, "Every goblin within a click of here will be racing to find out what that was." Governess nodded, not trusting herself not to fall into another coughing fit the moment she tried talking. She got to her feet, trying to force her vision to stop swimming, and walked after Deathtrooper. The coal seemed to choke the light from her flashlight, giving her maybe a meter's visibility at best, not helped by the fact that Deathtrooper was basically invisible in the cloud. It was the fact that every once in a while he would look back, revealing the green lights, that ensured her he was even still there.

Despite the help of the cloth, Governess was still forced into constant bouts of vicious coughing, which only seemed to grow worse the longer they walked.

They came across goblins eventually, though the ones they found were barely able to stay awake part in thanks to the deep cloud of coal that seemed to go one forever. Deathtrooper made short work of them with the help of one jet black boot, not wanting to waste time drawing her sword.

The duo eventually came to a sort of drop off, a ladder leading down to a lower level.

"I'll check first, wait here for my order," Deathtrooper stated, before slinging the large blaster over his back. He climbed down, eventually disappearing into the cloud and out of Governesses very limited sight.

As she waited, the young woman's vision swam again, sending her teetering for a moment before she managed to right herself.

"Clear!" Came Deathtrooper's slightly augmented voice from the foot of the latter, still out of her view. Governess, not sure she could speak without passing out, instead clambered over to the ladder. She put one shaky foot to the first rung, finding it stable, before bringing her downward climb.

She made it down a few rungs before her vision began to swim again, and this time she couldn't stop it. With a gasp of air that led into a cough, her whole world went black… in a more unconscious sense.

* * *

DT-227 thanked the maker for allowing the birth of the man who saw to the building of Deathtrooper helmets. The helmets, aside from the usual inbuilt filters and a number of neat gadgets, gadgets that allowed him to monitor Governesses descent down the ladder.

They also allowed him to note when she seemed to pause, and warn him that she was falling. DT-227 cleared the distance between himself and the ladder faster than he ever had before, arms outstretched to catch the falling form of his ward and, dare he say, only friend. Though she had fallen a, somewhat, long distance, DT-227 caught her without issue, hoping to ensure her injuries were minimal.

Sure that she hadn't broken her neck, falling on his hard, armor covered arms, DT-227 was able to take in her rugged and uneven breathing. This coal dust was working fast, and he feared that they wouldn't be able to get out before it killed her.

DT-227 made a decision, one that might cost him his life should it take too long to escape.

"Helmet, override order 227, add user 'Governess'.

"... User added," Came a soft, female voice on the audio receptors in the helmet, "Please confirm user."

DT-227 twisted the helmet, unsealing it. A small warning blared, but he ignored it.

"Deathtrooper… Don't…" Came the soft, barely audible voice of a partially awoken Governess. DT-227 offered her a lopsided smile, taking the cloth that was around her mouth and nose and placing the helmet over her head. A small hiss resonated as the helmet sealed itself. It wouldn't be as airtight as the helmet sealing with his suit, but it would allow her to breathe.

DT-227 set the young woman down, leaning her up against a wall. Her breathing, though still rugged, became more audible, a good sign he hoped. The trooper studied the rag she had been using, it was now stained a dark black. He tossed it aside before freeing another less coal-soaked rag from a bandolier. He quickly wet it and placed it over his mouth, careful not to breathe too deeply lest he find himself in the same position as Governess.

DT-227 quickly slung the E-11 over his back and holstered the pistol on his hip. While carrying and firing the DLT-19 with one hand would be a challenge, it ensured he could still protect himself and carry Governess at the same time.

He lifted her up in one arm, her legs haphazardly slung over his firing arm, making it look like some sort of bastardized version of a bridal carry.

Not wanting to waste time and already feeling an itch at the back of his throat, DT-227 set out with the single-minded purpose of getting Governess to safety.

It was painful, the further he went the more his throat itched and begged for the chance to cough. DT-227 was resilient, however, and even as his eyes began to water he fought through the pain.

Few goblins stood in their way, all either unconscious or dead, he didn't care which. He didn't waste time dispatching those who may have still been alive, hunting for the exit as he was. A fearful voice in the back of his head warned the man that there may not be an exit at all, but DT-227 ignored it. He would hold on to hope as long as he could until proven otherwise.

"Deathtrooper," Came the near-silent voice of Governess, who had passed back once again into the world of the living in an attempt to reason with him.

"Don't talk, save your strength." He murmured, his own voice sounded hoarse as hers did. Governess, though likely wanting to argue to the point further, let her head drop as she slipped back into unconsciousness.

"Just don't die on me…" He murmured, now sure she wouldn't hear it. DT-227 pressed on, blaster still raised.

It wasn't long until he reached what was likely the very back of the mineshaft, evidenced by the flickering fires someone had foolishly lit. It was then that he realized that someone, or something, had created a bubble in the center of a large room, protecting it from the cloud of black. Likely another show of magic, a fact of this world he was still trying to become accustomed to.

He swore under his breath, a tough action as he struggled to breath without coughing his lungs out. Dozens of goblins, likely all who hadn't suffocated in the higher level of the mine, were seated around the fires, many clearly sick or having trouble breathing. One was standing away from the rest, dressed a little more prestigiously and barring a staff. The staff itself was glowing, likely the cause of the bubble. DT-227 couldn't kill the magic one, the resulting wave would probably ignite the coal cloud and killing them all.

Looking over the group, he spotted, with a sinking stomach, the prisoners and slaves of the goblins, all off in one corner. Thankfully, they were included in the bubble and all of the goblins seemed too exhausted and hard of breathing to want to deal with them.

DT-227 silently tanked the maker of blasters for the magnetic shielding on blaster bolts to hold them together. He hadn't even though what would have happened should superheated gas being released into the air, and he wasn't willing to find out.

DT-227 set Governess down, hiding her from view behind a heavily damaged mine cart. Hoping she would be safe, DT-227 rose to his feet and strode towards the goblins. None of them seemed to notice him, he blended in with the cloud of black, until he crossed the threshold of the bubble. A few goblins choked out warnings, but it was too late for those unaware of his appearance.

The rifle in his hands roared to life, cutting down the goblins with merciless intent. The bolts fried their skin and tore apart bodies, a vicious but deserving show.

After a few moments, the gun hissed, it was empty. Not that it stopped DT-227. He slung the rifle back over his back and drew the gleaming, still sharp as the day he found it, elven blade. This seemed to enrage the goblins much like those nearer to the mouth of the mine, but their desperate and weak attacks were no match. Shields fell away with a swing, blades were knocked aside, and the few arrows bounced uselessly off his mesh and armor. It was a bloodbath, something DT-227 had become quite used to over the years.

He dispatched the last standing goblin, bar the magic user, and pulled a small canister from his bandolier. It was fire retardant in the form of a grenade, a bizarre and situational tool to give to a Deathtrooper. However, it seemed their time to shine had come. He hurled the first grenade at the nearer of the two fires, extinguishing its blaze. Using another grenade, the second fire was gone, leaving just the lead goblin.

Both stared into the eyes of the other, fear and shock goblin's as it met the emotionless eyes of DT-227. Neither moved for a second, the goblin still holding the coal back with its shield. As DT-227's hand shot for the pistol holstered at his hip the goblin acted. The glow on its staff vanished, and with it the shield holding back the cloud. DT-227 closed his eyes and sucked in one last breath as the dust quickly replaced the once breathable air. After a moment past, he opened his eyes and was immediately forced to dive into a roll. A spear, glowing red, hurtled into where he had been a moment before. If this goblin could kill him with its magic was up for debate, but DT-227 wasn't exactly for testing the theory.

He brought the pistol up, firing blindly into the darkness where he figured the magic came from. No dice, no cried of anger or pain followed as the goblin had, likely, repositioned itself.

The coal cloud around him suddenly shifted, changing from a light floating to a dangerous gust, spinning towards him. DT-227, unable to react in time, was thrown into the wall with a groan, the back of his head slamming into the stone. As stars appeared in front of his eyes, he slammed in the chest by an unseen force, pushing the air from his lungs. He groaned, sliding down the wall and fighting to get his breath back. This, of course, led to his lungs being flooded with coal dust. He hacked out a violent cough, but this did little to incapacitate him.

No, now he was _pissed_. It was shameful, a Deathtrooper being tossed around by some ankle-biting gremlin, especially one who had fought goblins before.

He rose to his feet with a growl of anger, waiting for his foe's next attack. The goblin did not disappoint, a faint glow of green appearing a few meters away. DT-227 easily avoided the attack, closing the distance and driving his knee into the face of the goblin. It cried out, dropping its staff as it flew a few feet. The goblin landed, hard, on the ground, but DT-227 didn't give it a moment to gather itself. He closed the distance once more, grabbing the little animal by the throat. He lifted it a few feet from the ground before slamming it, hard, back to the ground. It gasped, its own held breath driven from its lungs. DT-227 wasn't done, though, no by a long shot. He picked the goblin up again and threw it in a direction, pleasantly surprised when his foe hit a wall. He stormed over as the goblin coughed, trying to both catch its breath and flee, failing at both. DT-227 kicked it into the wall, following that with a vicious punch to its gut. He wanted to do more, to show that getting one over a Deathtrooper was a poor choice, but his mind cleared and forced him to remember the slowly dying Governess nearby, and to a lesser extent to prisoners. With a growl, he put the blaster pistol to its skull and fired, leaving the smoldering body. He found Governess, still lying where he had left her. Her breathing was still rugged, if not more so, pressuring him to move faster.

He quickly slung the blasters of his back before picking her up with one arm. DT-227 pulled a chemical light from his bandolier, igniting it and waving it around.

"If you can hear me, follow this light!" His voice sounded like he had just swallowed gravel, "Help the others if you can, I'm getting you out of here."

That raised a question, however, how were they to get out of here? He found the leader's throne, and behind it a door. Opening the door, he found baby goblins, which were all dispatched quickly and without mercy. Beyond that was another pathway, which led up. Hoping this was the exit, DT-227 began the trek upwards, carrying Governess as carefully as he could considering the circumstances. He had begun to cough uncontrollably, but this did little to slow him down as he fought to the top. After a few minutes, a light began to appear, and with it hope.

DT-227 stepped out of the cavern into the light above, blinking against the setting sun off on the horizon. Setting Governess down for a moment, he removed the now stained cloth over his face and threw it aside.

Several other people followed him up, doing a quick head count told him these were all those that had been trapped, at least based on what he could see. Some were carrying the more injured women, others being led along as they stared ahead with blank expressions. DT-227, for a moment, felt pity for him before the far more pressing issue returned to his mind; Governess.

He knelt down and, carefully as he could, picked her up. She didn't react, her head rolling back as her breathing seemed to grow softer by the second.

Fear gripped his tired heart so quickly he nearly took off running back to the town, but when he looked back at the women and girls, all regarding him with equal parts fear and pleading on their coal-stained faces, he knew leaving them was not an option.

"Follow me, I'll take you back to town," He stated, though it sounded more like a growl given his banged up his lungs were. They all nodded, evidently daring not to talk or question who he was under the fear that he might vanish. They began their slow trek, each minute dragging by like an eternity for DT-227.

Governesses health only deteriorated, but there was nothing he could do. Bacta couldn't fix her lungs, and without proper medical equipment, there was nothing he could do. He prayed to whatever gods might be listening there was someone, anyone, at the town that could help them.

Three hours. Three hours it took to march back to town, the sun was long gone and was replaced by the moon, casting them in its dim light. Several villagers rushed to meet them, surprise and joy in their faces as they found family members they had believed to be dead for who knew how long. DT-227 stood off to one side, watching the events unfold and unsure how to proceed with the dying Governess in his arms.

His answer, thankfully, came in the form of one of the girls he had just saved, pointing over to him next to a much older woman. The woman followed her finger, meeting DT-227 desperate eyes. With a brisk nod, she signaled him to follow her. DT-227 sucked in a breath, holding back a cough that threatened to slip past him, and jogged after the woman.

None of the party spoke as they made their way past house after house, ending at one of the smaller of the lot. The old woman opened the door and led DT-227 to one of the rooms, moving far faster than someone of her age should have. Wordlessly, DT-227 slipped in and gently lay Governess down.

"Thank you." He said, his voice still extremely rough. The elderly woman stood to one side, watching the following events unfold with a tired and pitying look.

DT-227 knelt at Governesses side, listening for her breathing to come.

It never did.

Terror gripped his heart once more, she couldn't be dead, that was…

His brain couldn't comprehend what 'that was', so his instincts took over. Without even realizing what it was he was doing, DT-227 freed Governesses head from the helmet, DT-227 ignoring the stains of black in the white bedsheets below.

Governesses face was deathly pale, something DT-227 could tell despite her coal-stained face.

"No…" DT-227 gasped, putting his ear to her mouth and listening for… _Anything._

Not a sound.

Gritting his teeth, DT-227 rose and began doing the only thing he could think of, performing CPR.

He did little but force coal from her dry mouth, not jump-starting her breathing in the slightest. DT-227's emotions became an incomprehensible mess as he continued to work, unable to make sense of any of it save one, _pain._

"Please, Governess, not like this…" He murmured, not even comprehending what he was saying, still working tirelessly. He couldn't lose her, not after all this work-

No, not because of the work he put into training her. Not because it was his duty or his final order, no, he couldn't lose her because she was all he had, his one friend and confidante.

"Please, don't leave me…" He begged, pleading with the lifeless form of the young woman with whom he had grown so close to over the short time they had spent together.

"Don't die. You're all I have left, the only friend I have in this fucked up existence I call a life, please…" He fell to his knees, grabbing her hand and checking for a pulse.

A moment past, and for the first time in their existence, a Deathtrooper broke.

Silent tears slid down his coal-stained face, becoming as black as his armor as they slowly slid down. His body shook with a soundless sob, but all of his resolution, his training to withstand the greatest emotional trauma was not enough.

The sound that came from him was said to terrify everyone three houses down in either direction, but facts like that no longer mattered to DT-227. He shook with sobs as he brought her hand to his face, he had killed her. The one person in the entire galaxy that truly and utterly gave a damn about him, conveniently forgetting Marksman, and he had been the instrument of her demise. He had led her to her death, and now he was alone…

Anger, self-loathing, and an even greater sense of loss grew in the place of his initial sadness.

But he, and perhaps many others were spared from the unbridled rage of a Deathtrooper, as a small, high voice came from the entrance of the room.

"E-Excuse me?" DT-227 showed no inclination of hearing the voice. After a moment's pause, soft footsteps approached his side. The figure, whoever it was DT-227 could neither see nor bring himself to care, in fact, he truly wished they would leave him alone.

She kneeled down, speaking. He didn't quite hear what it was she was saying, nor understood any of what he did, but it seemed like some sort of well-rehearsed line…

Any further questions he had were dashed by a faint glow coming from his side. DT-227, numbly, looked up, seeing a petite girl holding a staff forth with her eyes closed. She looked… vaguely familiar, what with her blue and white outfit, and her blonde hair, but from where he could not remember.

She finished her chant and an aura of… well, something DT-227 couldn't quite explain enveloped the room. DT-227 flinched from the light, his crying had made his eyes rather sensitive, but it seemed the entire world froze when he heard the heavy coughing of the figure on the bed. These were… _more_ healthy coughs of someone forcing something from their body and succeeding.

Not believing his ears, DT-227 looked, wide and red-eyed at the coughing form of Governess.

Governess was coughing.

She was alive.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Thank you for reading this chapter!**

 **Sorry if it seemed a tad… edgy for some, the next chapters will be time for silent introspection and introductions to 'new' characters, worry not!**

 **~Error;PleaseReload**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I own neither Star Wars nor Goblin Slayer, but if I did I would delete all other love interests in the latter and declare Priestess as 'Best Girl'.**

* * *

 **Deathtrooper**

 **Chapter 8**

 **Homecoming**

* * *

The world seemed to slowly come back to Governess, as if she had been wrenched from the waiting jaws of death. How she did not know, but the reason soon came to her in the form of a hard, but not unkind, voice.

"You know, one of these days we won't be able to save you two." Governess, who was laying on the ground, turned her head up, craning her neck to see the speaker. Though looking at her upside down, Governess could clearly see her unbelievable beauty, a sight that near took her breath away and filled her not with jealousy, but deep respect. She blinked those bizarre thoughts away and rolled over, rising unsteadily to her feet, she was wearing a bizarre, green robe.

Finally on her feet, and surprising able to breathe properly without the sting of coal dust in her chest making a mess of things, Governess regarded her surroundings.

She seemed to be in a place of endless light green, as far as the eye could see. Even the ground, which was warm beneath her naked feet, glowed this light green color. Finding no answers here, Governess instead turned her attention towards her host.

The woman was taller than her, if just barely, with a head of long brown curls, all of it seemingly falling naturally yet perfectly. There was no sting of jealousy from Governess, surprisingly, as she was still yet to find the hairdresser that helped the many women of Frontier Town. Perhaps it was because the woman seemed so…

Surreal…

"Pardon my rudeness," Governess, ever tactful, started, "But may I ask to whom am I speaking to?" The woman's slight smile grew, an eyebrow rising alongside it.

"Dear me, you are far more polite than your comrade. I believe one of the first things he said to my sister was a threat." The woman giggled, covering her mouth as she did so like a pristine lady. Governess took a moment to take the rest of the woman in. She was adorned in a green, white, and brown dress that feel nearly at her feet. It seemed to hug her every curve until her hips, where it plumed out like some sort of wedding dress.

"I am Earth Mother, the goddess of the…" The woman paused for a second before looking a little bashful, "Well, of the Earth."

Governess raised an incredulous eyebrow at that, not exactly believing this woman's claims of being a goddess. Of course, she had seen some rather bizarre things in her time on this planet, from supposed Demons to battle bikinis, so she was willing to be open minded.

"A goddess? Of dirt?" Governess asked slowly, earning an agitated huff from the, seemingly, ageless woman.

"Not of dirt, you troglodyte," Governess had no idea what a troglodyte was, but assumed it to be an insult of some form and took offense accordingly, "Of this planet, Earth!"

"Ah," Governess said noncommittally, not entirely sure how one was to respond. Who names their planet after dirt?

"Anyways, what was I talking about…" This woman's credibility as a 'goddess' dropped by the second, "Right, you're near-death-experience."

"Near death? I don't know, I felt pretty dead in the end there," Governess stated, remembering the sharp pain in her lungs and the world fading around her as she passed in unconsciousness, likely for the last time.

" _Nearly_ dead. Had it not been for one of my Priestesses, you and I wouldn't be having this conversation. She called upon me to heal you, and heal you I shall."

"Ah- Wait a minute, you said your sister talked to Deathtrooper, right?" Governess asked, suddenly remembering what the woman had just said before.

"Hmm? Yes, and he was rather rude to her. Not that I blame him, my sister was always a bit of a-" Suddenly seeming to realize who she was talking to, the woman cleared her throat, "As I was saying. It had been an unlucky cast of the dice during your perception check that you saw the blade and fired at it. Naturally, Deathtrooper easily passed the check and saved both himself and you. From there it was simple for him to cut his way through the lot. Of course, you were _supposed_ to die, but due to Priestess no longer being beholden to the game, we did not account for her being there."

Whoa, okay, a lot to unpack there.

Of course, she had played tabletop games before in clandestine meetings with her friends, and they were exceptionally boring. Ones like Prisons & Krayts were especially boring, but how this woman described all that had happened…

"Wait…" Governess said slowly, looking and meeting the woman's eyes as her face displayed both realization and anger, "Is this a _game_ to you?!"

The woman looked taken aback for a moment, and partially ashamed for another before her face was schooled into an expression of calm indifference.

"Of course not," The woman defended weakly, but Governess was in no mood to hear any of it.

"No, piss off with that! Are you telling me all these people dying are amusing to you?" Governess demanded.

"No, of course-"

"That's repulsive. You treat your followers like, what, pawns?! Lambs for the slaughter, or should I say your own perverse amusement?"

"If you would just let me-"

"By the creator, if I had contact with my father, you would have a Star Destroyer shoved so far up your-"

"Enough!" Roared the woman, her own patience snapping as she stared down Governess. The soft greens, which had slowly been growing duller the more Governess got into her tirade, but it suddenly redoubled in its intensity when the supposed goddess snapped. Governess, despite her clear anger, fell silent. There was something about the aura this woman gave off that commanded if only a little respect.

"I understand your anger, as misdirected as it is. This isn't a _game_ , at least, not to most of us. We are gods beholden to the power of chance, we merely direct, dare I say, the pieces to each action. It was _chance_ that saved you, against the roll of the dice, you survived. Why? Because another girl who was supposed to die survived and saved you! We do what can to help because, unsurprisingly, we don't want to be gods of a dead world," The woman took a deep, calming breath after her rant, her voice shaking with unspoken anger, "Contrary to what my dear sister told you companion, the fact that you and Deathtrooper are alive was complete chance, chance we didn't have any say in. Imagine it, if you will, that this is one of your fantasy tabletop games, and you introduced a tank. You and Deathtrooper are starting to gain some attention from the other gods, after all, he did something that very few have done before, alone no less; he killed a demon. I hate to say this, Governess, but you are going to be way out of your league soon. If you aren't already, that is."

Governess narrowed her eyes at the insinuation that she would be incapable of helping her friend, voicing as much.

"I am more than capable of handling myself."

"Really?" Asked the supposed Goddess sarcastically, "You? The one who nearly died because she fired blindly at some glinting light she saw in the darkness of a mineshaft?" Shame and embarrassment flooded Governess, but that didn't stop her from glaring balefully at 'Earth Mother'.

"He has gained the notice of the gods, meaning that they will want to throw increasingly greater odds at him. Too many of them, this is a game. He is their new, obscenely powerful toy. You are nothing more than a plus one in their minds, and while he may survive the crucible they intend to put him through, will you?" The woman let the question float in the air for a moment as Governess lowered her gaze. It was true, during her first real mission she was nothing more than deadweight from Deathtrooper, he had to carry her through most of the mineshaft and all the way back to town.

"You aren't ready now, perhaps you won't ever be. In time, however, you may become skilled enough to stand at his side as an equal, but for now," The woman's heated glare softened somewhat, "You are the only thing that keeps his humanity intact. You are the lifeline that keeps Deathtrooper from answering every situation with 'acceptable casualties'. I don't have to see the future to know that, had you not somehow made him more human, he would have just collapsed the entire mineshaft, declaring that the women weren't worth wasting limited resources to save. If you were to die…"

Governess nodded slowly, understanding now. There was a connection between them now, an understanding. While she couldn't really explain it, it was much like how she supposed loved ones looked out for each other. They may argue and insult one another, but when it came down to it they would defend the other to their dying breath.

It felt bizarre to not only care so much for someone but have those feelings returned. Being raised in the cold, emotionless environment of a Governor's palace is hardly ideal for learning how to be properly compassionate.

"I'll let you think on what to do next on your own, until then, awake, my child." The world went black, and for a moment Governess was deeply confused. That is until she felt something… soft against her back, like a bed. She soon realized she was lying down, and an itch was quickly growing in her chest.

She forced open her eyes, staring blearily up at the pale ceiling over her head. She blinked a few times, trying to clear her eyes of the blurriness that made it so difficult to see. With a groan, she turned her head to look off to one side. There stood, or kneeling in two of their cases, three people.

The first was an older woman who she didn't recognize, looking down at her with an unreadable expression. The second was a young woman, perhaps around her age, that looked vaguely familiar.

Of course, blue and white robes along with thigh-high boots weren't exactly bizarre compared to some of the dress fashion one might find in Frontier Town.

Though Governess failed to see the tactical value of exposing one's thighs.

The young woman had a roundish face with bright, blue eyes, contrasting nicely with her long, flowing blond hair. A familiar pang of jealousy was lost as she regarded the last of the trio.

Deathtrooper was kneeled at her bedside as well, next to the familiar young woman. He, however, looked a stark contrast to the usually severe and professional self. His face was stained in equal parts coal dust a tear tracks, the latter of which looked relatively fresh. His eyes, which were puffy and red likely part in thanks to his tears, displayed a collection of emotions. The first she noted was a concoction of anger, sadness, and self-loathing, but once she turned to fully look at him those emotions were dwarfed by two new ones; surprise and joy.

She cracked a wry smile, which suddenly felt as if it had taken all of her remaining energy.

"You lot look like a funeral procession, who died?"

* * *

Her voice was low and rugged, punctuated by a cough that spewed black dust everywhere. DT-227 was, however, unaffected by that, merely staring wide-eyed at the young woman he had been so certain was dead mere moments before.

He barely had time to register what he was doing before he basically leaped across the distance that separates them, embracing her tightly to his cold, dust-covered chest. She let out a yelp of surprise, followed by heavier coughing that expelled even more dust.

He shook, fearful that she would vanish and that was all some delusion his brain made for him to cope, but as a couple of minutes passed, he found she was still there. Confused and only slightly amused, but there nonetheless.

He hesitantly released her, falling back onto his rear and just staring at her in disbelief.

"Miss me?" She asked, her voice sounding less rugged but much more tired as if she had just run a marathon.

"You're alive," A master of observation he was not, "You're…" Words escaped him, his brain barely even able to comprehend what he was seeing. DT-227 knew magic existed in this world, it had saved his own life apparently, but to see it work, so see it rip someone from the grip of death.

It was surreal.

"What, think I was going to die on you? I'm stung by the assumption." She deadpanned, though a smirk betrayed her true emotions. DT-227 shook his head, new tears threatening to spill. These were not sad ones, though. It was tears of joy that were threatening to break him once more.

"I thought you were going to die…" He stated, lowering his gaze and staring, absently at the floor, "I thought I had lost you…"

"Oi," Governess snapped, and when DT-227 didn't look up, "Look at me!"

He, hesitantly, looked up to meet her eyes, and though she looked exhausted there was a certain fire in them.

"I don't intend to die any time soon, soldier, so cut the tear-jerking rancor shit. You're no fun like this, emotional doesn't suit you." Despite his depleted relief, the man cracked a wry smile.

"Good, I loathe to admit it, but having to fight while lugging you around was a right pain in the ass." DT-227 countered, earning a glare from Governess.

"Are you insinuating something about my weight?"

"Insinuate? Me?" He sounded aghast, though his smile betrayed him. Governess rolled her eyes and instead turned her attention upon the other occupants of the room.

"Are you going to introduce me to our goods hosts?" Governess asked, propping her head up on one arm while looking to DT-227's right. Confused, the man turned and remembered that the old woman and girl were still here, the former watching on with amusement as the latter did so with shock.

He darted forwards, bringing the young woman into an embrace before he had a chance to compose himself. She let out a squeak, a far softer, cuter sound than whatever Governess had made with her mutilated throat.

"Thank you, I owe you a great debt for saving her." He stated as she, with on delicate hand, patted him lightly on the back.

"I-It's okay, I was merely doing my job," Her voice was high and slightly musical in a sense, very delicate compared to Governesses more cultured tone.

DT-227 released her and dropped to a knee, bowing his head.

"Call upon me at any time, I will repay my debt even if it kills me." She made a slightly embarrassed sound and was only further driven to blushing as Governess agreed.

"Likewise on my part, sans the dying. I don't want mister big-bad special forces here to become a blubbering mess."

"Piss off."

"No, you." Governess retorted, laying her head back down. DT-227 hummed for a second before turning and regarding her again.

"Real mature," He deadpanned, turning his intense gaze back upon the flustered young lady.

"Aren't I?"

"I-I- Y-You don't owe me anything!" The young woman squeaked again. DT-227 found it rather impressive that she could argue with them as such, given that she seemed to barely be able to talk to them. DT-227 would not relent, however, looking up at her face.

The young woman, whose porcelain features had been turned red in her embarrassment, was now coated in a thin layer of black where she had touched his armor.

"On my honor as a Deathtrooper-"

"What honor-"

"Shut up, I swear that I will serve any purpose you require of me. Be it a dungeon, or fighting another demon, I will do it. You saved her, and that's worth my life and then some." Perhaps it was his tone or the hard look in his eyes, but the young woman merely nodded rapidly, trying to look anywhere by at her face.

She was spared any more embarrassment by the opening of the room's door. DT-227 regarded the man who stepped through with a critical eye, not intentionally it was just something he had learned to do naturally.

The man was tall, not as much as he was but still over six foot. He was dressed, much like DT-227 himself, head-to-toe in armor. It was a dark, metallic grey with a number of scratches along its already filthy frame. The helmet, which had the most bizarre visor he had ever seen given that it couldn't move, completely his face from view. There was little style or color to is, bar a rather battered red plume coming out from the back, and the lining of fur around certain parts of the armor.

As for weapons, he was running a little light. DT-227 lived by the Imperial doctrine of "There is no such thing as too much firepower". This man, however, was armed with a small, circular shield, to what its name was DT-227 didn't know, a short sword and an assortment of throwing knives.

"Are the goblins in the mineshaft dead?" DT-227 blinked, it had been so long since he was subjected to the brusque, no-nonsense tone of a soldier, not since he had arrived. He easily fell in line, rising and wiping his face clean of any emotion.

"In the mineshaft, guaranteed. Many may have escaped the carnage inside," It was a cool, direct response. The man gave a small, barely noticeable nod before abruptly turning and making to walk away.

"Wait," DT-227 said, putting a hand on the man's shoulder, "I started this job, I'm going to finish it." The newcomer turned, regarding the Deathtrooper from behind his visor for a moment.

"Very well," The man responded, waiting as Deathtrooper looked back at Governess. The young woman raised one coal-stained eyebrow.

"I'm in no position to help, get out of here and finish those little green bastards off." He responded with a smile and a nod, taking his helmet and the shorter of the two rifles. It likely didn't have much left in terms of ammo, but it would suffice in case any real problems arose. He pulled his helmet on, listening to the familiar hiss of the seal as the HUD came back to life. It quickly did some readings, complaining about the fact that the suit was filthy, before confirming he was of acceptable health.

"Let's go," DT-227 said, flicking a switch on the side of his blaster. It whined to life, drawing confused looks from the old woman and girl, but the man merely nodded. Without a word, he turned to walk out the door, DT-227 right behind him, when he stopped.

"No," He turned, not speaking to DT-227 but to the girl behind him, "You stay here, watch her."

"But-" Started the girl, but it seemed that whatever look the man gave her from behind his visor properly silenced her. With a small nod, the man led DT-227 out of the house and past the young woman whom he had just saved a few short hours ago. She smiled slightly and dipped her head in thanks, a nod he returned slightly as the pair stepped out onto the dark street.

Still silent, the man led DT-227 through the town and in the direction of the mineshaft he had just left not too long ago. The only sound, at least according to the audio receptors on his helmet, was the crunch beneath their feet and the fair sound of an owl in the distance.

As they approached the mine, DT-227 stopped.

"Wait," He said, the man also stopping and turning to face him. Wordlessly, DT-227 detached an orb from his belt and, upon hitting a few buttons, threw it into the air.

"Doing a scan of the local area," He explained to the still silent man, "It'll tell us where the goblins are."

"I see," Responded the man simply, showing no sign of confusion or disbelief. It was relaxing as much as it was infuriating, after all, most people were stunned by his technology and weapons and asked numerous questions about how they worked and where he found them.

After a few minutes, the orb fell back to the ground, relaying all that it had seen to DT-227's HUD as it did so.

"There are five remnant groups of goblins, follow me," DT-227 stated in short order, taking the lead. The man merely followed silently, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword while the other swung at his side.

They walked for a few moments before DT-227 spotted the goblins through the dim. His old combat protocols took over, he put up a fist and knelt down. The man followed suit after a moment, likely watching in confusion as DT-227 signed several orders silently. A moment of silence followed before he remembered this man had no idea what any of that meant.

"Sorry, six goblins ahead, two armed with ranged weapons and the rest with a mix of spears and blades. Hold there," DT-227 indicated a few feet from where the wooded area let out into the small clearing around the cavern opening, "I'll put down the ranged and as many of the rest as I can, but when they reach you you're free to attack." It didn't occur to DT-227 that he had, basically, demanded a stranger follow his every order. Thankfully, the man merely obeyed as slunk forwards, hiding behind a tree and nodding to DT-227.

The Deathtrooper raised his blaster, bringing the first goblin into his sights. With a breath, he fired. A crimson bolt sailed across the woods, but before it was even halfway, a second one followed it.

The first goblin toppled backward, its face now a mess of seared flesh. The other didn't even have time to turn before the second bolt made it a twin of its fallen comrade. DT-227 managed one more shot before the goblins quickly cleared the distance between them. The goblin fell with a cry of agony, its chest smoking from the super-heated bolt.

The other three made it to the tree line, but they made it no further. The events that followed made DT-227 wonder if he was, perhaps, treating the goblins as too little a threat.

The man darted from the tree was hiding from, bashing the first goblin away with his shield. As it shouted in surprise and agony, the man speared the next through the head with his sword. The third shrieked, leaping at the man before being cut down by his blade. Its body flew past him, streaming blood as it tumbled along the ground. The final one rose, looking split between retreating and attacking, but DT-227 didn't give it a choice.

Having approached during the carnage, he positioned himself behind the goblin and, with the help of a fiber wire, choked the life out of it in a brutal fashion. Holding it up off the ground by a few feet, he watched emotionlessly as the goblin clawed at the wire and screamed with its pitiful, inhuman voice.

After a few moments, the many small razors embedded in the wire itself killed the goblin.

"Two," Stated the man as he flicked some of the blood off of his sword before sheathing it. DT-227, wondering if the man lacked the ability to count, checked his HUD again.

"The next group it this way, on me," He ordered, raising his blaster and walking back into the woods. The man merely grunted in response, following at a cautious pace. They walked in total silence before, eventually, reaching the next set of goblins.

There were five this time around, only one with a bow. DT-227 fell to a knee, once again signaling for the man to do the same.

"Same deal, there," He indicated to a large bush nearby with a hand, his blaster trained on the goblin armed with a bow. The man obeyed instantly, slinking over to the aforementioned tree and kneeling down, awaiting the signal. DT-227 brought the scope back to his eyes, and after a moment of pause, fired. The bolt put the archer down instantly, but when he tried to fire again, it was to no avail. The blaster hissed, empty.

"Damn…" He uttered, watching the four remaining goblins charge his position with furious howls. The man broke cover, cleanly decapitating the first as it ran over. Following his twist with a spin, he avoided a spear and ran that goblin through with his bloodied sword. DT-227 quickly ran to join his temporary comrade in arms, unsheathing the Elven blade on his hip. It glowed in the darkness, drawing the attention of the remaining two beady-eyed goblins. Instead of reacting in anger like their kin in the mineshaft, they screamed in terror and tried to retreat.

An interesting reaction, but DT-227 wasn't so inclined to allow them a chance to escape. Closing the distance in but a few bounds, his gleaming blade cleaving its way through the goblins' frail necks their last expression and thoughts likely that of terror.

DT-227 rose as their bodies toppled to the ground. He turned towards the man, cleaning his blade of the blood as he did so.

"Come, we've got a few more to hit." The man merely nodded, sheathing his own blade once again.

The duo made their way to the next two collections of goblins, finding nothing out of the ordinary and dispatching those collected with practiced ease. DT-227 grew more impressed with his temporary comrade, his skill with the blade and the creative ways in which he dispatched goblins was something to be admired.

They arrived at the final group, this one being the largest. A dozen regular goblins and the far larger 'Hob'. The 'Hob' sat, leaning against a wall and enjoying the succulent flesh of an animal DT-227 couldn't quite place. The others were gathered in small pockets

"Figure you could take the normal goblins?" DT-227 asked. He didn't doubt the man's abilities, but even the weakest foe in large numbers could be a threat to the most skilled of warriors, evidenced by the Clone Wars.

"Yes," The man, as usual, responded simply. DT-227 nodded, drawing his sword and slinking off to the left, still covered by the forest.

"Draw their attention," DT-227 ordered, "I'll take care of the big guy."

Not waiting for a response, he continued to slink, stepping carefully and as silently as he could manage. None of the goblins seemed to be paying attention much, more focused on their lingering coughs and eating.

DT-227 paused when he drew close to the 'Hob', which also was far too focused on its meal to be looking out for an attack. DT-227 didn't have to wait for long, mere moments after he stopped, the man stepped from his cover.

He moved fast, faster than DT-227 would have expected someone of his build and wearing that armor would be capable of. His sword, old and covered in gore, gracefully slashed apart the two nearest goblins, killing them before they even realized they were under attack.

The rest of the goblins were roused, realizing almost too late that their kin had just fallen. With a collection of shrieks that DT-227 could only assume to be warcries, they dove at the man. He cleaved through them, butchering them like animals with practiced ease and skill.

The 'Hob' had risen as well, grabbing the large club at its side and leering at the man carving its smaller kin apart. DT-227 didn't give it the chance to join the fray, dashing over to its and plunging his sword into its chest.

It roared in anger and pain as the blade, presumably, pierced its heart.

When it didn't die, DT-227 realized he may have been a little off the mark.

It backhanded him away, DT-227 managing to land in such a manner that he could roll back to his feet. The 'Hob' tried to pull the blade in its chest out, and it was the that DT-227 realized there was some sort of steam rolling out of the wound. When it grabbed the sword with its offhand, it hissed as the flesh was burnt by some unseen force.

DT-227 didn't waste those precious moments just observing, however. He closed the distance, jumping into the air and landing a vicious punch to its jaw. The unexpected attack combined with DT-227's physical prowess sent the 'Hob' tumbling backward into the wall it had just been sitting up against. It caught itself, but this did little to improve its situation.

DT-227's leg kicked into the back of its left leg, driving it down to one knee as his other leg swung higher, nailing it in the face. The force of the hit sent it falling backward, landing on its back with a loud _thud_. DT-227 straddled it, landing a flurry of brutal punches to its already maimed face. To finish his show of strength and violence, DT-227 freed his sword from its chest and drive it into the 'Hob's face. Its struggles were immediately silenced, allowing DT-227 to rise and take a step back from its body.

He turned towards the man, who had seemingly killed all his goblins and took to watching the display.

"Impressive," His tone of voice didn't change, but somehow DT-227 felt the man was being earnest.

"Thanks," DT-227 responded in kind, walking over to the mouth of the cave. The man met him there, peering in.

"There may be more goblins inside," Was all he offered before attempting to crawl into the hole. DT-227, however, had a better idea. He grabbed the man's shoulder and pulled him back, freeing one of his Thermal Detonators from its latch on his belt.

"I've got a better idea," DT-227 stated with a smirk, something that likely didn't translate well to his emotionless helmet and slightly distorted voice. When the man didn't respond, DT-227 activated the Detonator and threw it in.

"Now run." And so they did.

The duo didn't make it more than five meters when a deafening explosion shook the very ground beneath them, nearly toppling them. Fire erupted from the opening of the cavern, frying the corpses of the goblins. This likely occurred at all the other openings, thus killing any poor fool still trapped inside.

What could he say, coal dust mixed with semi-large explosives made a really big _boom_.

"There," DT-227 stated, offering a hand to the man after getting up himself, "Problem solved."

The man merely hummed in response, accepting DT-227's hand and allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. They took a moment to admire their work, the fire had already died down due to a lack of fuel and had, thankfully, not reached the wooded area.

"We should probably check to ensure none of the other entrances set the forest on fire." The man nodded. They set out, quickly checking each area. Only one had the starting of a fire, but some dirt, their boots, and a fire-retardant grenade solved that problem.

Finally finished with their task, DT-227 and the man made their way back to town, their only light being the moon high in the sky. After some time passed in absolute silence, DT-227 initiated a conversation.

"I'm DT- Deathtrooper, by the way," DT-227 stated, speaking over his shoulder as he walked. The man seemed to pause a bit on that before responding.

"Goblin Slayer." DT-227 had a double-take at that, studying the man behind him with a more critical eye. Goblin Slayer was, after all, infamous at the Guild for the fact that he only ever took goblin quests and wore rather trashy armor. He could understand many of their gripes, apparently gaining 'silver ranking' was a challenge and he got it from just killing a sizable sum of goblins.

When Governess had asked Guild Girl what 'sizable sum' meant, the woman bashfully admitted they had stopped counting after four-hundred.

"Goblin Slayer, eh? I've heard a lot about you around the guild."

"I see," And the silence returned at that. Somehow, it felt right.

* * *

They reached the home, finding the old woman seated in the living room with the girl's head laying on her lap. They seemed to have been talking before DT-227 and Goblin Slayer entered.

"Ah, Sirs Deathtrooper and Goblin Slayer, I assume the goblins are dead." The old woman asked, evidently having learned their names from the duo's companions in the other room.

"Yes," Responded both of them, immediately and simultaneously. It was rather jarring, but neither seemed inclined to acknowledge what had transpired. The old woman looked between them, bemused for a moment before shaking her head.

"Very well, your girls are in the other room. They've been washed up, and I must ask you to do the same." Her voice, though kindly, made it clear she would accept no excuses. DT-227 dipped his head in understanding, he merely wanted to check in on Governess before going and finding a well to clean his armor.

They walked past the woman and the girl, entering the room where Governess and Priestess were.

The latter, who spun around with a small squeak, was dressed in black shorts and a matching blouse. Likely what she wore under her now stained robes, something DT-227 was apologetic for. In the bed, which looked to have had its bedding changed, was Governess. Her eyes were closed and gave no sign that she had heard them enter or was even awake.

"Are the goblins dead?" Priestess asked while ringing her fingers, clearly worried about the well-being of her partner.

"Yes," Answered Goblin Slayer simply, who was setting down his weapon and shield.

"Then it's safe to assume that the explosion was your work?" Governess suddenly spoke up, neither opening her eyes nor moving. Priestess rounded on her, stemming her fists into her hips and puffing up her cheeks.

"You're supposed to be asleep!"

"'Supposed to be' and 'am' are two vastly different statements," Governess responded, rolling over and propping up her head with one hand.

"To answer your question, yes. The mineshaft has been dealt with, though I doubt there's much left," DT-227 elaborated, setting down his blaster. Governess gave a solemn nod before letting out a large yawn.

"M'kay. Well, I'm going to get some sleep, g'night." She rolled over again, now facing the wall and putting her back to them. Priestess unrolled a sleeping bag, furrowing into it with a sigh of contentment.

"I'm going to wash up," DT-227 announced to Goblin Slayer, who gave a small nod. DT-227 left him, standing there in the middle of the room. The old woman and girl were still talking as he reappeared, falling silent as he walked by and stepped outside.

It was a short trek to the nearest well. DT-227 knocked the bucket it, letting it fill with water before raising it back up.

It was a challenge, clearing his armor of all the grime and coal as he couldn't bloody see any of it. So long as the water kept coming back as black, though, he would assume his job wasn't finished.

As he worked, DT-227 regarded what he had thus far seen from Goblin Slayer.

He was male and young, that much was clear just from his size and his voice, but he still held the skill and viciousness of a much older man. The way in which he killed goblins spoke volumes on how he felt about goblins. There was anger in his swings, each one far too vicious for something as weak and simple as a goblin. It was less him trying to ensure the goblin was dead and more him wanting to do as much damage, cause as much pain as he could before it died.

DT-227 couldn't pretend he could understand the man's anger, based on what he had seen thus far, goblins were detestable creatures that should be exterminated. Had it been someone he loved that suffered beneath their machinations? He would, likely, never know nor was it any of his business. This man evidently believed goblins to be the scum of this planet, and DT-227 wasn't hesitant to agree with him.

With his armor now clean, DT-227 set to work on his face and mesh. His min moved from Goblin Slayer to the girl, Priestess if memory served. She looked the same as she had when they first met in the forest so long ago, though seemingly less fearful. She had cowered before him when they first met, and while she seemed wary of him there was less terror in her gaze. Perhaps it was spending time with a man named 'Goblin Slayer' that jaded her to the intimidation factor other people held?

She seemed to care about him, though if those affections were merely as friends or something more DT-227 would likely never truly know. He still couldn't read people's affections all that well.

Those feelings, whatever they were, were not returned in any way that DT-227 could tell. Of course, the man's stoic nature and emotionless voice tended to make it hard to tell what he was thinking. At least while fighting DT-227 could read what he felt.

* * *

"No," DT-227 groaned inwardly as he tried to argue with the hard-headed woman before him for what felt like the umpteenth time.

"Ma'am, we are already being paid by the Guild, you letting us stay here was not necessary-" DT-227 tried, once again, to argue, but it was to no avail. She had offered them food, but DT-227 refused. It was, after all, bad taste to continue abusing her hospitality as such. She put her foot down when he offered to pay her on top of that.

"I don't know what paltry amount the Guild is paying you, but whatever it is isn't worth the life of my Granddaughter! Letting you four stay here is the very _least_ I can do."

"Ma'am-"

"Don't you 'ma'am' me, young man. Your intimidating suit and startling height may have other people agreeing with you without argument, but I'm putting my foot down! You're lucky I'm letting you out without food. Now, off, shoo." She waved him off towards the door, the Deathtrooper equal parts annoyed and amused as he complied.

The rest of his small band were waiting outside, properly washed and cleaned of the coal he and Governess had spread. Bar Priestess, whose robes would require far more intensive care than whatever could be offered in this town. She was instead wearing a nondescript grey cloak that was pulled tightly around her form.

She had been talking rather amicably with Governess when he approached.

"Come on, our cart is waiting for us," He said, pulling his helmet back on and letting the HUD reactivate. The group only respond with nods, trailing behind him as DT-227 led the way.

Much of the town approached to say their goodbyes, many looking up at DT-227 with reverence and only a slight amount of fear. The women he had saved did approach him, either offering a small bow or some outright hugging him. DT-227 grimaced under his helmet, it didn't help his image if people were so comfortable around him. The point of their armor was to be as unsettling as possible.

"Governess, can you show these two to the cart?" DT-227 suddenly remembered something as he spied the 'guardhouse'.

"Sure, why?" The young woman asked as DT-227 broke off from the group.

"I need to talk with the captain of the guard." Governess merely hummed in response before leading the other two further down the road.

DT-227 walked up to the door, knocking on it before entering. The interior was as he remembered it to be, down to the guard that was still fast asleep in the room.

Hell, he was still in the same position.

DT-227 spotted the captain of the guard waiting at his desk, looking up at the disturbance with a grim expression. DT-227 approached him, kicking the leg of the sleeping man's bed as he passed and waking the heavy sleeper. Despite his rather serious demeanor, the captain of the guard cracked a slight smile as the bewildered guard looked around.

"I assume the goblins have been completely dealt with, then?" The captain asked as DT-227 stopped at his desk, looking up at the empty helmet.

"They are, your guard was dead, though. Seemed the goblins got the jump on him. I left his body up near the entrance." The captain sighed at DT-227's words, dropping his head for a moment.

"Poor bastard… Thank you regardless for your service. I haven't anything to pay you with, but I assume the Guild has a reward for you…?" At DT-227's nod, he continued, "Alright. Thank you, you have done this town a great service."

DT-227 offered the man a small bow, leaving without another word.

He found the others already aboard the cart, awaiting his arrival.

"All's well, sir Deathtrooper?" The driver asked, sitting cross-legged in his seat and eyeing DT-227 as the man approached.

"As it can be, when you're ready."

"Aye, sir." DT-227 clambered up into the protected cart, sitting down next to Governess and opposite Priestess.

"What did you need to talk to the Guard Captain for?" Governess asked as the cart lurched, setting off back to Frontier Town.

"I just told him were his guard was," DT-227 explained, removing his helmet and setting it off to one side. It felt slightly… strange, seeing as Priestess and Goblin Slayer were complete strangers and he rarely took his helmet off in the first place. However, a gut feeling told him they were trustworthy, and he tended to believe in his gut.

"Oh…" Governess's seemingly good mood was squashed as she remembered the dead guard in front of the mineshaft. Silence reigned for a few moments as the group sat, lost in their own thoughts.

Right when it started to get awkward, Priestess spoke, her face slightly flushed from embarrassment and her eyes averted from DT-227's.

"U-Um… Deathtrooper, m-may I ask you a question?" He raised an eyebrow but waved a hand signaling that it was, indeed, alright. She swallowed nervously before continuing, "A-Around the Guild, what people call you seems to change between D-Deathtrooper and… Demon Slayer."

DT-227 cringed inwardly at the monicker many had given him as if his already bizarre looks didn't attract enough attention as is.

"That they do," He could see her question bubbling up, but he wasn't exactly for giving her an answer without a question. He wouldn't outright lie to or refuse to answer her question, but not before she asked.

She seemed to think about asking him for a few minutes before blurting out her question when her curiosity grew too much.

"Did you?"

"Did I what?"

"Did you kill a… a D-Demon." Even Goblin Slayer seemed to pay attention at this, peering over at DT-227 with an unreadable expression.

Quite literally, he was wearing a helmet, after all.

DT-227 mulled over the question for a moment, making it look as if he were deep in thought.

"I guess you could say I-"

"If you count suicidally throwing oneself at the blades of a massive demon in a vain attempt to suicide bomb it," Governess completely blindsided him, "Then yes, he did."

Despite her slight embarrassment and fear over asking such a question, Priestess couldn't stop the snort that rose up at Governess's rather blunt delivery. Goblin Slayer didn't react, however, bar tilting his head ever so slightly to one side.

"I wasn't trying to suicide bomb myself," DT-227, his earlier fearsomeness and prestige ruined, defended weakly, "I merely tried to close the distance, as my blaster had no effect, and place a Detonator beneath its armor."

"Which led to you nearly being split in half, good plan," Governess mocked good-naturedly, her smile only growing as DT-227 scowled down at her. Before she could comment, however, a low rumble came from the young woman across from DT-227. All eyes fell on Priestess, who covered her stomach and began blushing anew.

"I forgot, none of us have eaten anything today," DT-227 stated, putting up a finger. He reached into one of the bandolier compartments, freeing four ration bars. Governess cringed, a feeling DT-227 more than agreed with given his own dealings with these thrice-damned bars. No matter how many he used, there always seemed to be an abundance of them. The more of _real_ food he ate, the more horrid they seemed to taste in comparison. They, unlike the local foods, held a large number of proteins and nutrients to assist him until the evening meal.

The problem with the local foods, as his helmet spared no time lamenting, was its lake of nutritional value. The food, much like the culture, seemed thoroughly trapped in some sort of prehistoric period. What to do about this, DT-227 did not know… Perhaps time would give him a solution in due time?

The bars were handed out and opened, Priestess studying the dull, tan bar with curiosity as Governess and DT-227 scowled down at them. With a shared glance of deep sadness, they bit down. Both shuddered as the brittle bar shattered between their teeth. Priestess, much like anyone who first tried the bars, choked and nearly dropped hers.

"W-What is this?!" She sputtered, forcing herself to swallow the small bit she had taken. DT-227 offered a lopsided smile, lifting one of the wrappers.

"Ration Bars, enough to power the average person for the better part of a day and the worst tasting thing this side of the planet," DT-227 explained, setting it back down and looking to Goblin Slayer.

His mind suddenly pulled a blank as he witnessed the man had already gone through half his bar, which was slipped sideways through his helmet. DT-227 blinked a few times as the man ate the bar without some much as a shudder.

"Could be worse," Was all he offered as a comment, biting into it once more. DT-227 and Governess slowly turned to give Priestess questioning looks, who seemed both embarrassed and dolefully accepting.

"You get used to it."

* * *

"Ah, Goblin Slayer, Priestess… Oh, and Sir Deathtrooper, Lady Governess, I see you have all met!" Guild Girl, with her usual enthusiasm, greeted the quartet with a smile and twinkling eyes.

Goblin Slayer merely hummed in response as Priestess bowed respectfully to the older woman. DT-227, on the other hand, stepped up to the counter. With his helmet on, he looked every part the intimidating 'Demon Slayer' he was supposed to be.

"We finished the job," He stated, setting the contract down on the counter and pushing it towards her. The young woman accepted it, giving the paper a once over before smiling once again and setting it somewhere beneath her counter. She came back up with a small bag of coin, handing it over to the soldier.

"Here you are, Sir Deathtrooper, your payment." The man nodded his thanks, opening the bag and flinching at how little was inside. It would cover a day or two at the hotel, but no more. They would need to take another job soon…

He turned to speak to the trio only to find Goblin Slayer and Priestess walking away.

"Ah- Wait!" He walked over to the duo, who had turned back around to face him. He dumped roughly half of the coin into one hand and offered it to the duo.

"You're cut," DT-227 explained when neither made any move to take it.

"You took the job-"

"It's your-"

They both immediately tried to rebuff him, but DT-227 was having none of it. He pressed the coins closer, wishing his expression could get his point across. It was still, alas, trapped beneath his helmet.

"No, you two earned this. Governess wouldn't be alive if it hadn't been for you," He nodded to the flustered Priestess before turning his attention back to Goblin Slayer, "And I doubt I could have taken all those goblins on my own."

A lie, of course, even without a blaster he was so far out of those Goblins' league he was back on Coruscant. In an enclosed cavern they may hold an advantage, but in an open area with nowhere to hide? They didn't stand a chance.

Finally, Goblin Slayer relented, accepting the coins in one hand and splitting them even further with Priestess. DT-227 didn't mention the fact that Goblin Slayer subtly slipped Priestess more than he took for himself.

"Thank you," The words seemed to stun not only Priestess but everyone around them. A smile came to DT-227's face as he dipped his head to the other man.

"My pleasure. Until next we meet." With that, DT-227 returned to Governess.

"Come on, I want to do some maintenance on the blasters-" DT-227 stated as he passed her, headed for the door.

"Wait, DT…" DT-227 froze, turning to look over his shoulder at her. The young woman looked deeply uncomfortable and ashamed, not meeting his eyes.

"DT?" He repeated, sounding slightly amused.

"It's easier to say than 'Deathtrooper' all the time." She defended, a small pout on her face as she stated as much.

"That it is, as you were saying."

'Right, DT… I…" She fell silent, looking angry with herself for a few more moments before speaking, "I think you should go on the jobs without me, if only for now." The last part was added quickly at the end. DT-227 was surprised, whatever it was he had been expecting it wasn't this. She, who had been so gung-ho about tagging along with him, giving in?

"What?" He said before he could stop himself, sounding both like he was accusing her and sounding dumbfounded. She flinched but pressed on.

"I realized, after Priestess brought me back, that I had been nothing more than a hindrance during that entire operation. I was out of my depth, and I should have realized that. I shouldn't have forced you to bring me, to waste this last month training me, if anything had happened to you while protecting me down there-" She stopped, sucking it a breath and finally meeting his eyes with her tear-filled, but resolute, ones, "It sounds pathetic, but I'm not ashamed to admit it. DT, you're all I've got in this galaxy, my one friend and confidante. Like the cool uncle I never had, and far less perverted…" She paused at that before shaking her head. She met his eyes again, awaiting his response. DT-227 was, again, floored. She mirrored his own sentiment, bar the uncle thing. So lost in this thought, he responded by trying to defend her.

"You weren't a hindrance, Governess-"

"Yes, I was!" She snapped, louder than she was, evidently, intending as she flinched, "You were limited to one arm bulk of the tunnel, slowly destroying your lungs and yet you _still_ moped the floor with them. You are so far out of my league, you may as well be back on Coruscant!"

"I… Are you sure about this?" He asked, softly this time. She sucked in a breath and nodded, her posture making it clear how resolute she was about this face. DT-227 sighed, kneeling down to her level.

"Well… Okay, if that's what you want. Do you want to stop the training, then?"

"No," She responded immediately, "Maybe in a few years, if we're here that long, I can be of use, but for now I'll train as I can."

A few years, that was a jarring thought.

"What will you do in the meantime, when I'm off working, that is?" Governess looked over at Guild Girl with a growing smirk, the woman in question looking both surprised and slightly worried at the look.

"Oh, I have a few ideas."


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I own neither Star Wars nor Goblin Slayer, but if I did I would have a second Empire at War made.**

 **A/N: This is the first of three chapters titled "Interlude", which will all be taking place at the same point on the timeline. This one follows Governess and her new job, the second will follow DT-227, and the last will follow…**

 **Well, you'll have to wait and see.**

* * *

 **Deathtrooper**

 **Chapter 9**

 **Interlude (Governess)**

* * *

One of Governess's greatest fears was that, when she became a politician, she would have to deal with mountains upon mountains of menial and pointless paperwork. Such an idea was the very bane of her aspirations, though she wasn't lacking in ambition she feared menial work. The idea of debating and backstabbing her foes was attractive to the young woman, dealing with housing developments and board meetings? Not so much.

That was why, soon after coming in for her first day, new Guild employee Governess was regretting her decision to work for this organization.

That wasn't to say the job didn't have any benefits, far from it. Aside from getting free food and drink while on shift, Governess was given a sizable wage and rather nice clothing. Far greater than that, however, her pride and joy, i.e. her flowing golden locks, were finally being treated in a manner that they had not been for months now.

As it turned out, the hairdresser she had been hunting was a well-kept secret by the women of Frontier Town from the men. You had to know someone to get it, and for Governess Guild Girl was that somebody. Never had her hair felt so smooth and silky since arriving on this planet.

Ignoring the fact that the dresser demanded exorbitant prices given that he was the only one in town, she felt that the job was worth it with that alone.

It was the paperwork, however, that really put a damper on things. The mountain she was working on currently was the 'stat sheets' for the new adventurers. This was a slow and painful task as, with the lack of modern technology, she was forced to do everything by hand. Made worse by the fact that there was a lot of information to write down and copy. She was required to copy every new adventurer's information into a separate book, listing all adventurers that signed up from date 'x' to date 'z'. Worse yet, when promotions came along, a separate pile, she would have to dig through older books to find said adventurers and add _that_ information as well. She _also_ had to write down any changes in equipment as adventurer made, of which there were a _lot_.

The job pained her, but it was made saddening by one fact; the deaths. Each entry in the main book had a 'date joined', 'date left', and 'reason for leaving'. Few adventurers retired, most dying in the fields of combat. It was deeply disconcerting to find fifteen to eighteen-year-old kids in the mix, their lives ended violently at the hands of monster and man alike. There were too many, a stack of two dozen today alone. The biggest problem, she had to go in-depth to explain how they died. It was explained to her that this information was sent to certain guilds and companies so they could better their armor and weapons for next time, but the whole act seemed very wrong to Governess.

Her employer had made it exceptionally clear, under no circumstance was she to warn newcomers and adventurers of the dangers brought on by certain jobs, lest she drives them away. The Guild and its employee's first thoughts must always be on maximizing profit, after all.

It was the type of sentiment she expected from the Imperial companies and governments, but it seemed that no matter where you went, corruption and profiteering were always prevalent.

Governess leaned back in her seat, massaging her hand as she looked out the one window in a dark room. It was framed between two massive bookshelves, all housing decades of adventurers and information, many long since forgotten with their wording smudged or rotted away.

Though she knew it to be wrong, Governess couldn't help but to snoop through the mountains of information before her in search of her newfound friends. Marksman and Shaman were easy enough to find, both having joined the same day alongside Swordsman. A pang in her heart made Governess shudder as she remembered the poor, albeit flirtatious, young man.

Priestess had joined roughly one month ago, her party… wiped out on their first outing. Suddenly her general nervousness made a little more sense. She had nearly died, or worse, on her first adventure. In all likelihood, it was probably shortly after she and DT met them in the forest. Guilt rose in her heart, the four of them probably could have survived if she and DT had done… something.

Shaking those pitiful thoughts from her head, Governess hunted down her and DT's papers. Much of what she expected was on them, she was listed as… support mage? That was rather rude in her mind, but Governess moved on from it.

He was listed as 'knight', likely the closest he could get to the soldier and it explained why he was constantly referred to as 'sir' by the rest of the staff. Rather humorously, there was a small 'alchemist?' tacked onto his name, likely in reference to how he killed the demon.

It took quite a bit more searching, but in the end, it was an accident that Governess found the book Goblin Slayer was located in. A member of the old guard had fallen to his death near a ravine, him having joined a day before Goblin Slayer.

Governess read over the old writing before her, much of it faded and worn from years of use. A small smile appeared on Governess's lips as she noticed the ever so faint outline of a heart around his name. If the other records were correct, Guild Girl joined around that time as well. She, too, had tried the adventurer's life as a 'duelist' of all things but wasn't suited for it.

Governess tried to envision Guild Girl as an adventurer, armed with a rapier, as she closed the book. It was an amusing thought, what with her kindly and bubbly demeanor.

She set back to work, wanting to finish before it was closing time.

* * *

The day passed at a snail's pace, and when she was finally freed from her dark, library-like prison, Governess quickly rendezvoused with DT. They agreed upon a local, and cheap, restaurant eat. Governess wasted no time complaining he futility of her new job, all of which DT took in with a detached sort of smile.

"Some of those books have to be a century old, at least!" She bemoaned her face pressed to the cool, wood table. DT chuckled softly, shaking his head as he leaned back in his seat. His face, Governess finally noticed, was slightly damp, though if it came from sweat or water she did not know. Governess knew he had been training with Female Knight again in hopes of bettering his ability with the sword. While he _was_ getting better, Governess has seen with her own eyes the skill and mastery Female Knight had with the blade. It was like placing a toddler next to a soldier. Sure, DT could probably beat her to death with his fists rather easily, sword or no, but some things required a little more finesse than plasteel-coated fists.

"Sounds quite horrid," DT commented lightly, sipping at his water as they awaited their food to be delivered. Governess rolled her head to stare up into his eyes.

"How about you?"

"Pardon?"

"I'm sitting here, belly-aching about my day, how was yours?" A slightly lopsided smile appeared on DT's face.

"I assume you mean aside from getting thoroughly battered by Female Knight?" He asked, to which Governess rolled her eyes.

"Naturally."

"Naturally…" He repeated with an annoyed expression before shrugging, "Nothing happened, then. Just an average, lovely day spent out in the sun where I actively did things and-"

"You're hilarious, DT, a true master of comedy." Governess basically growled, scowling as his amused grin. After a moment, his face became serious once more.

"The offer still stands, Governess, if you want to drop this job and get back to adventuring-" But Governess allowed him to say nothing else, narrowing her eyes. They had discussed this, vehemently, after arriving back at their hotel room. DT couldn't understand why she would give up something she had fought so hard to get all while blaming himself for what had happened. Governess, on the other hand, had tried to explain that it wasn't his fault she was injured, nor was there some unspoken or secret reason she decided to stop adventuring.

She wasn't ready, and as much as it stung her pride to admit it, she might never be. DT had something she lacked, expansive combat experience against all types of foes. Well, that and the countless number of alterations made to his body to make him more physically intimidating than he likely was to start with.

No matter how hard she trained, she would have neither of these two factors. It was a saddening thought, but a realistic one.

"No, I made my choice and I'm sticking by it. End. Of. Discussion." DT looked as if he would have liked to say a lot more, but out of his respect for her, he said nothing. Governess sighed inwardly at that, it was growing more challenging to justify it to herself little more than DT.

She was saved from any other pertinent questions by the arrival of their food, for him a steak of sorts, and for her what seemed to be a pork chop, not that she truly knew. They were not only going under different names, but she had also yet to see pigs in this world.

"That reminds me," DT said after they dug into their food like ravenous animals, "Heavy Warrior and Female Knight have recruited me for a job, in celebration of my promotion."

Governess looked up at him in confusion, swallowing her mouthful of food before responding sarcastically.

"Their definition of 'celebration' is work?"

"No better a reward than the chance to dispatch new foes," It sounded like he was quoting something, but Governess didn't exactly know what.

"Huh… Any idea what the job is about?" DT leaned back in his seat, chewing as he thought.

"Female Knight said something about direwolves," He started after swallowing the mouthful of beef, "And a new pack leader, or somewhat."

"Weren't you paying attention?" Governess demanded, surprised that he had only been partially listening to what their mutual friends had been talking about. DT, as special forces, was extremely details oriented, especially since the mineshaft. He hadn't gone out on another job over these last couple days, of which Governess had spent training under Guild Girl. DT had been training and rearming himself with 'IEDs' created from black powder and a laundry list of materials. As he explained it, while these new explosives would be far less potent than what he had originally, they would suffice if the going got tough.

"I was, but she has a very bizarre way of explaining things. I was just going to have Guild Girl bring out the bounty so I can read it. It would be for the best that I didn't wander into another job blind." Governess nodded sagely in agreement, not wanting a repeat of the mineshaft.

"When do you head out, then?"

"Early tomorrow, likely before you wake up." Governess hummed in response, wondering what direwolves were and hoping they wouldn't be too much of a threat for DT.

"Don't get yourself killed, you hear?" She ordered humorously, jabbing him in the chest with one finger. The man's smile returned.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

* * *

Upon waking up in the morning, Governess found DT's bed empty and neatly made, a sign of how stealthy the man could be when he chose to be.

The room had been gutted of his 'necessary' equipment, the two duffle bags looking notably lighter from the night before. Only one blaster remained, the shorter of the two rifles, likely for Governess to defend herself.

She ate a quick breakfast, made up of rather stale bread and eggs, before running off to her job, smartly leaving the blaster behind. It wasn't such a good idea to be wielding a weapon, even if it were as unassuming as the short rifle. Plus, it clashed with the generally brightly colored uniform she wore at the Guild.

Governess arrived at the building long before it opened, her task being to put up all the quests and jobs for the day. The back door was unlocked, so she slipped in and, quietly, made her way to the front. It was eerie, seeing it so empty and devoid of life, but she ignored the creeping feeling of foreboding by setting to work on the large stack of papers left for her.

Some two hundred quests later and the job was complete, with time to spare no less. Governess busied herself with more odd jobs in the information room, mostly straightening up the leftovers from the last few days. Today, however, was looking far more bright for the young politician. Instead of wallowing away in the darkness of the information room, digging through mountains of paperwork and questioning why she decided this was a good idea, Governess would be at the very forefront of the Guild, working at the counter. Giving quests, directions, and introducing new adventurers to the world they were to step into. All of that seemed far more interesting and far less mind-numbing, in her humble opinion.

Governess wasn't forced to wait long, though, as Guild Girl soon showed up, behind her trailing one of their co-workers: Inspector.

Inspector was a rather strange woman, shorter than Guild Girl and with a rather round face. Her hair, which was a dark brown as compared to Guild Girl and Governess's own blonde, fell down near her waist, near perfectly straight and always immaculate.

That woman's bizarreness didn't end there though. Aside from her straightforward and blunt personality, the woman was extremely perceptive and could read people like a children's book. What did she use this skill on most days? Mocking Guild Girl about her crush with Goblin Slayer, of course.

She never said her co-workers were the most mature lot.

"Good morning, Guild Girl, Inspector." Governess said in greeting, waving at the duo from her chair behind the counter.

"Greetings, Lady Governess." Inspector, ever proper, responded with a bow.

"Mornin'," Guild Girl spoke as she stretched with a slight groan, "Everything set up, then?"

"I came in a bit early to put the jobs up, so they should be," Governess explained, waving a hand towards the aforementioned board covered in varying colors of paper. Guild Girl looked over it all before nodding and walking into the back room.

"We'll open up in five, I need a pick-me-up." Guild Girl stated, her voice becoming little more than a mutter as she vanished into the back. Inspector and Governess shared a glance, the former looking exasperated and the latter seeming bemused.

"It's a stark contrast," Governess noted, "Here on hours and off." Inspector laughed in response, a strange sound from the usually aloof woman.

"It is, isn't it? Believe you me, the act she puts on in front of the adventurers and her dear sweetheart, Goblin Slayer, is just that; an act." Governess chuckled in response before the duo fell silent, awaiting the return of their co-worker.

After a few minutes, the woman returned. She looked leagues more lively and upbeat, even her hair seeming to glow with newfound life.

"Okay, we shouldn't keep the adventurers waiting!" She announced to the growing amusement of Inspector.

"Let's." Inspector agreed, walking around the counter and unlocking the door. Governess and Guild Girl placed themselves at their positions behind the desk, putting bright smiles on their faces. Guild Girl gave a nod to her friend, the dark-haired woman responding by pulling the door open.

Dozens of adventurers were already waiting outside, taking idly among themselves until the door came open.

"Good morning!" Chorused Governess, joined by Guild Girl and Inspector. It was part of her training manual; always greet Adventurers with a smile and positivity to ensure they are pressed into taking more jobs!

Because the more jobs adventurers take, the more money the Guild gets! That part wasn't in there, but the point is made. Their job was to try and emotionally manipulate the adventurers to get as much money out of them as possible. Hence why the food tended to either be dry, salty, or both. That way they drink more, spending even more money.

Governess had nothing but respect for the owner of this establishment, he knew his target consumers.

"Good morning!" The adventurers responded, with varying degrees of enthusiasm. The flood began, most headed straight for the many tables in the dining area. A few looked over the jobs, but as they had yet to be 'opened', those looking soon found their way over with the rest of their kin.

Inspector vanished into the back, leaving Guild Girl and Governess. Guild Girl leaned towards Governess, speaking quietly.

"Are you ready?"

"As I'll ever be." Governess stated with a small nod.

"Just be patient, you'll need it." Governess nodded again but was inwardly skeptical. She had dealt with the endless 'saying-much-meaning-little' song and dance for as long as she could remember. Her family was infamous for betraying each other, following only the Tagge and Tarkin families, she could handle a few adventurers.

Guild Girl gave a brisk nod, her brief frown being replaced by a dazzling smile.

"Adventurers, the jobs are now open!" She announced to their resounding cheer. A storm of adventurers gathered over at the boards, talking among themselves as they read the many possible jobs.

Eventually, the first people started filtering over to Governess and Guild Girl.

The first that came to Governess was a stout, bombastic man with a rather large mustache.

"Greetings, fair lady! I would like to take this job." He handed over the slightly torn paper to Governess, who accepted it with on delicate hand.

"Of course, sir…" She looked over the paper, seeing the rank and looking up to where his badge would be. It was partially hidden beneath his armor, but the distinct black of an Obsidian badge looked back at her. Governess frowned briefly, drawing the man's attention.

"Is there a problem?"

"Pardon me, sir, but you are not a high enough rank to take this job." She stated, flinching as anger rose on the man's face. He flushed as a few of the people behind him chuckled.

"I am more than capable of defeating bandits!" The man snapped, spittle hitting Governess in the face. As she grabbed a handkerchief from her belt, she responded with the same kind, cutesy voice she had been using when he first arrived. It, naturally, didn't show her own growing anger.

"Be that as it may, sir, I am still unable to grant you this quest. Please, stand aside so that may help the next person." She said with a diplomatic tone, but it did little to deflate the man. He opened his mouth, likely to make some other demand or possibly insult her, but the man behind him had other ideas.

"I think she just told you to move." The man, who was in grey robes, growled. The first man looked from this newcomer to Governess, then, with a dark mutter, stormed off. Governess quickly stowed the paper beneath the desk as the newcomer stepped up.

"Thank you," Governess said with a dip of her head, earning a wry smile for the man's rugged, but companionable, face.

"Don't mention it, I'd like to take this quest if you'd be so kind." Governess accepted the paper, giving it a once over before looking up. The man, obviously expecting this, had pulled his necklace from his robes and held it up for her to see. Everything checked out, so Governess stamped it with a 'confirmed' and handed the paper back to the man.

"Here you are. The quest is located-" Governess had started to pull out a map, but the man put a hand up.

"Don't worry, I know where it is. Thank you for your help." Governess bowed again as the man walked away. She stood up again, Governess found that her line had grown substantially in her short conversation with the second man. It reached the opposite wall before turning across the door, leading to a mess of people trying to enter and leave the Guild through a throng of waiting adventurers. Governess swallowed and chanced a glance right, finding, to her dismay, that most of the people were lined up for her as opposed to Guild Girl. The young woman, who had seemed to kind mere moments before, offered Governess a sadistic, knowing smirk.

Governess turned back to the line, her smile slightly more nervous as the next person stepped. This man, while holding a paper that seemed of the proper rank, was leering hungrily down at her.

She soon came to realize that today would be as long as the last few.

* * *

A long day of work later and the Guild was declared 'closed' for the night, much to the chagrin of the drinking and eating adventurers. Within ten minutes of the declaration, the lot of them were thrown out, not literally, of course, they had an image to maintain.

The duo, joined by an amused, and still aloof, Inspector, sat at one of the recently vacated tables.

Suffice it to say, Governess was exhausted. The job, while not as boring and mind-numbing as paperwork was extremely taxing. It took every ounce of her self-control to not wring the necks of the many adventurers that either tried to flirt with her or argue. Many of them had a decade on her at least!

"So, how was your first day as a 'guild girl'?" Guild Girl asked, her kindly smile replaced by something a little more darkly amused. Governess made a sound that was half groan and half words, becoming completely unintelligible.

"It gets better," Inspector said with a kind smile, and a chastising glare at an unaffected Guild Girl, "Eventually, they will all be a little less… enthusiastic about seeing you. You're just so adorable."

The simper on Inspector's face did nothing to placate Governess, who had started to scowl.

"I'm not adorable," She announced with a pout. The two older women laughed at the reaction of their newfound co-worker.

"Sorry, Lady Governess, but you are adorably cute." Governess groaned as their laughter returned. She was, thankfully, spared any further embarrassment by the arrival of the waitress, carrying platers or foot and mugs of drink.

* * *

It was still early in the evening when Governess returned to her and DT's shared room. It was empty, as she expected it to be. She looked around the empty room for a few moments before coming to realize that there was absolutely nothing for her to do.

Most of the time, i.e. the last couple of days, she spent her evening talking to DT, or arguing with him, or training with him. She never realized it until now, but Governess really didn't do anything that didn't involve DT in some way, shape, or form.

Governess continued to look around hopelessly, trying to find something to entertain herself with but, alas, found nothing. It quickly became painfully obvious that she had little of a social life outside of DT, who typically was enough to entertain her.

Silently chastising herself for becoming an introvert for the last few months, Governess decided a night on the town was just what she needed to keep busy and ignore the glaring hole that DT's absence left.

She bathed and changed, replacing her form-fitting work clothing for the more loose outfit of a governess. She did what she could for her now drying hair, not wanting to pay the hair stylist twice in one day, before making for the door.

As she reached it, however, Governess remembered the blaster, which was still located unassumingly on the table. She debated the idea of just leaving it, but the memories of all those men's leers fresh in her memory, Governess decided it was for the best.

Once again, she made to leave and was once again halted by another thought. Governess had no idea how this night would pan out, but it didn't hurt to be just a little safer. There was, after all, no DT coming to save her this time.

She sifted through one of the duffle bags, the one that held DT's medical equipment. Eventually, Governess found what it was she was hunting for. It was a simple capsule of anti-venom. Well, anti-venom was a bit of an understatement. It could cure a number of common diseases and inebriation, if DT was to be believed when he gave her the rundown of what he had in stock.

Governess pocketed the pill and slung the blaster over her back, finally ready to leave. Ensuring her key was on her person, Governess escaped the room and went down to the street, looking about and wondering where she should go first. She hadn't spent much time exploring the town in depth, ignoring the hunt for the hairdresser, of course. Between training with DT and… well, training with DT, she never had time or energy to do much more.

Deciding to set off in a random direction, Governess took in the sights and sounds of Frontier Town properly since she had arrived so long ago. Some people were in their homes, enjoying meals with their families or friends, but there still seemed to be quite the nightlife. Groups of adventurers and villagers wandering about or talking.

Governess turned down another street, still wandering when a familiar voice called out behind her. She turned, and much to her surprise and happiness, it was Marksman and Shaman. The duo looked the same as Governess remembered them, Shaman in her loose robes and Marksman in her form-fitting shorts and shirt.

"I haven't seen you two in a while, how've you been?" Governess asked when they reached her, a smile on her face.

"Same old, hunting monsters, getting paid," Marksman said flippantly, waving her hand before beaming at the other woman, "I'm far more interested in what you've been up to. No Deathtrooper?" There was a combination of regret and relief in her voice when the man did not appear. Governess's smile changed from warm to slightly amused.

"Sorry, he's off on a quest with Heavy Warrior and Female Knight."

"Whoa, _the_ Female Knight and Heavy Warrior? Wait… Why are you still here, then?" Marksman asked, Shaman nodding her head in agreement.

"He went by himself," Governess explained absently, as if this were rather normal. Marksman narrowed her eyes and Shaman sent the other woman a worried glance.

"He's forcing you to stay here?" Governess laughed at that question, earning stunned looks from both of the adventurers.

"Oh, heavens no. He tried to talk me _into_ coming along again. No, I… chose this. I don't want to talk about it here, do either of you know a place where we can get some drinks?" Governess didn't much want to talk about her incompetence while still sober, after all. Shaman nodded and took the lead at a brisk pace.

"I know a good place, here, follow me."

* * *

The trio found their way to a pub, seated off in one secluded corner, safe from the prying ears or eyes of the local patrons. The moment their mugs of ale, or in Governess's case: wine, were set down, Marksman dove headfirst into her question.

"So, what's this about you choosing to quit the adventurer's life?" The woman sounded skeptical of the fact, likely thinking it wasn't so much her choice and more DT's machinations. Governess almost smiled at the thought, it was rather cute she thought DT, the straight forwards and brash soldier, was any match against her in the game of wits and words.

"I… well, the short of it is that I nearly died." Both of them fell silent at that, staring at her in disbelief. It was natural, of course, given how protective DT was of her. It had been a pain to convince him to take another job, as a job would force him to leave town and, in turn, leave her alone.

"How?" Shaman asked incredulously as if such an idea was impossible.

"I was an idiot and panicked." Governess growled, feelings of guilt and incompetence rising up to bare their ugly heads once more. At the duo's confused and worried looks, Governess sighed.

It took the better part of two hours and several drinks to recount her torturous training, much of which the duo opposite her paled at, and their first proper adventure. At the end of the story, the pitiful, and tipsy, looks her… friends gave her agitated Governess.

"Don't give me those looks," She snapped, indicating towards them before knocking back another drink, "My choices were, are, and shall continue to be _mine!_ "

Both, though rather drunk themselves, managed to look ashamed. This lasted all of two seconds before Marksman slammed her hand down on the table and waved over a waitress.

"Another round of drinks!" She called, the woman in question bowing in response and heading back to the bar. Marksman turned back to Governess, clearly looking to redirect the conversation from its formerly depressing topic.

"How about a few stories from us? We haven't just been twiddling our thumbs you know!" Marksman announced, a smile coming to her flushed face. Shaman nodded in agreement, a goofy smile on her face.

"Sure," Governess shrugged, leaning back and letting them begin their tale.

"Okay, well, the last job we were on was hunting some orcs, we grouped up with these two novice knights, I think they called themselves… Female Novice Knight and Male Novice Knight respectively." Governess snorted, covering it with the drinks that had just been delivered to them. The naming conventions people used on this planet continued to astound her. She, briefly, imagined what such a convention would be like in her home galaxy. Some, like the Emperor, would remain the same. The arrogance of Tarkin would push him to take the title of Grand Moff for himself, which would lead to turmoil in the circle of Grand Moffs.

Chuckling at the thought of a collection of stuffy old men at each other's throats over a name, Governess turned her attention back to Marksman.

"Now, orcs are a bit different than goblins. Bigger, stronger, faster, smarter, and leagues better armed. Typically, they leave humans alone, but this lot was of a different thought process. They had been harassing caravans and local villages, not as bad as goblins, mind. They usually attacked, distracted the guards or militia and stole what they wanted or needed. Anyways, we find these orcs…"

The stories went on, becoming progressively less coherent proportionally to the amount of alcohol the trio drank. The latest story, some sordid affair involving a 'Minotaur, had sparked an argument between Marksman and Shaman. What about, Governess did not know. Shaman, who evidently could not hold her alcohol, was completely unintelligible. Marksman, however, seemed to understand her and made no move to fill Governess in. Not that the woman much cared herself, she was just trying to enjoy the food that was placed in front of her at the same time as trying to drink.

It was a mess.

Eventually, Marksman stormed off to the bar, likely in search for more booze, leaving Governess with the mess that was Shaman. Governess stumbled to her feet, nearly falling before catching herself on the table. With a few unsteady steps, Governess placed herself behind Shaman.

"You're drunk," She slurred, grabbing Shaman's shoulders and shaking her, "Gimme your keys…" Shaman responded with something Governess failed to understand before breaking out into giggles. After a few moments, for reasons she didn't quite understand herself, Governess joined in. She collapsed into the seat next to the other woman, her face finding its way to the table. She closed her eyes, content with falling asleep right here at the table.

She didn't know how long it was before someone shook her awake. Governess blinked open her eyes to find the flushed and grinning face of Shaman looking down at her.

"Hey…" She giggled again before giving Governess another shove, "Hey, l-look…" Governess grumbled but sat up, following the other woman's extended arm.

"Look. Marksman's found herself some… Company~" The 'y' was dragged out at Shaman's face found its way to the table with a loud _bang_. As she had pointed out, Marksman was now flanked by two large men at the bar, both of them speaking to her in hushed tones. Governess was, naturally, too far away to really make anything out.

It looked fine, though, so Governess made to put her head back down. It was then that a nagging feeling of… worry ran its course through her brain. Something seemed wrong with that picture, but she wasn't really in any condition to tell what. For a moment, halfway to putting her head back down, Governess wondered what she should do.

Then, she remembered the pill in her pocket. The young woman fumbled around for a moment or two before the pill appeared in her hand. Governess tossed it into her mouth, dry swallowing it due to the fact that there was nothing nearby to drink, Shaman had evidently made her way through everything on the table and was in no state to get more.

She could feel it tumble down her throat, a funny feeling that made her want to laugh. When it finally reached her stomach, nothing happened. Governess figured it must be a dud, but those thoughts were quickly dashed.

An uncomfortable feeling, like someone had just doused her in cold water, ran through Governess's nerve endings. She shuddered as the murkiness in her brain was blown away, replaced by a raging migraine and a clear mind.

Suddenly, everything wasn't so funny now.

Governess turned, looking at Marksman and her two suitors. Clearly, things were not as she and Shaman had supposed. The duo, who were getting far too handsy with Marksman, were leering down at her with expressions of deep lust. Marksman, clearly in no state to defend herself, looked deeply uncomfortable and fearful. The barmaid was off dealing with some other patrons, meaning that Marksman had no clear help coming.

Save Governess, that was.

The young politician, headache ignored in place of rage, rose to her feet and unslung the rifle from her back. It hummed as she flipped it to life, storming over to the trio.

As Governess got closer, she heard snippets of the conversation.

"- Give you the time of your life, come on." The man of the left growled with a sickening smile, rising and reaching for Marksman's arm.

"No." The woman whined, reeling away from his hand and nearly into the grip of his partner. It was then that Governess attacked.

Flipping the rifle around, the man of the left suddenly found his view filled by the butt of a blaster. A crunch resounded through the abnormally silent bar as his nose shattered under the vicious attack. He howled in agony, falling backward onto his arse. Governess spun, ready to face his partner, but surprisingly Marksman was already on top of that. Grabbing the nearby empty bottle by its neck, Marksman bashed the second man in the side of the head. While it didn't shatter like in the holovids, the resounding _thunk_ certainly sounded painful.

The man stumbled backward, but before he could get his bearings, Governess cleared the distance. She stepped past the man, kicking behind his left knee. This forced the man down, at the perfect height now for Governess's next attack. Jumping with a spin, Governess's knee crashed into the man's face. He went sprawling out across the floor, down for the count. Governess landed gracefully, even more thankful for DT's relentless teachings.

Governess turned back to Marksman, who was still seated but looked quite pleased with herself as well as thankful. Neither had a chance to speak, however, as the first man rose back to his feet. Blood was pouring down his face, but the rage in his eyes made it clear he wasn't going to go down that easily. In his right hand was a wicked, jagged blade.

"You whore!" He snarled at Governess, who tightened her grip on the blaster. Worry filled her mind, though it did not translate to her stoic face. She would have, at best, one shot at this guy before he closed the distance. She was decent at close quarters combat, but he was armed with a knife and the blaster rifle was not made for combat that was _that_ close.

Her worries were alleviated, however, as a newcomer joined the fray.

As fast as lightning, a grey figure appeared. It basically pounced on the assailant, who hadn't seen the figure coming. One fist slammed into the man's side, incapacitating him briefly as his breath was forced from his lungs. The second hand found its way around his throat. A tall, grey figure stood before the man, lifting him into the air. Before he even knew what was happening, the man was slammed to the ground. That, certainly, finished the fight.

The newcomer turned, revealing himself to be the same grey robe wearing man that had helped Governess during her first run at the front counter.

"Are you okay?" He asked the duo, his voice rough and emotionless, almost as steely as his face.

"We are, thank you." Governess sighed, adrenaline leaving her body as exhaustion and her migraine returned in full force, "I need to get these two home…"

"Let me help, we live in the same hotel complex." The man offered, stepping forward and helping Marksman out of her seat.

"Mr. Monk guy!" She announced, clearly already over her ordeal, "You're here? Another round, then, for my good friend!" Governess sighed at this announcement as 'Monk guy' smiled.

"I think you've had your fair share, Ms. Marksman."

"I dunno what you're talking about, Shaman's had too much!" Marksman complained petulantly, pointing to the still sleeping form of Shaman. The man chuckled, shaking his head and helping Marksman to her feet.

"Here, I'll take her," Governess offered, stepping forward, "Someone will probably have to carry Shaman." The man thought on that for a few moments before nodding in agreement.

"Fair point," Marksman was exchanged between the two of them, bellyaching about it the whole way. Governess managed to get the other woman's arm over her shoulders, helping her walk towards the exit.

As 'Monk guy' lifted Shaman up, Governess hobbled Marksman towards the exit.

Naturally, none of them remembered to pay the bar tab.

* * *

The following morning came with a slew of its own problems, namely the raging hangover and complete exhaustion. Of course, because Governess was as stubborn as a reek, she decided still going into work was a good idea.

Guild Girl, whom she was set to work with once again, seemed to make it her life's work to make Governess's headache one-thousand times worse.

"You should be careful, someone might find you attractive like this," Guild Girl mocked with a falsely kind smile. Thankfully, most the adventurers had already passed through. Of course, Governess may have snapped at one or two of them, but their endless wailing and complaining really did a number on her already beleaguered head.

Of course, Guild Girl's joke wasn't exactly true. Governess looked the same as she always did: completely immaculate. Well, that was barring the dark lines that made themselves known beneath her eyes, but very few people noticed that.

Guild Girl was, unfortunately, one of those very few people. Ms. 'Effortlessly-Beautiful-and-Perfect-In-Every-Way' seemed to find no end of fun in prodding Governess about the fact that she looked like 'death incarnate'. Naturally, Governess could pull her ace in the hole; Goblin Slayer, but no. Governess didn't want to jade Guild Girl to mockery over her crush, not yet at least.

So, for the time being, Governess just scowls at the older woman, a look that seemed to strike fear into some nearby adventurers.

"A fair concern, though one you are likely not one to experience attraction in the first place," Governess commented, her scowl disappearing and being replaced by a small, cutesy smile. One of the nearby adventurers, who had been looking at her with fear a few moments before, nearly choked on his drink, trying to cover a laugh.

"Oh," The honeyed tone of Guild Girl's voice made Governess worry if she, perhaps, had picked a fight that she couldn't win, "The little kitten has claws. Don't you worry that these adventurers think you're a little boy? After all, men tend to like women who are a bit more… Filled out?" The adventurer made no effort to muffle his laugh this time, joined by his comrades. Governess scowled once more.

"Low blow," Governess growled.

"For you, that's quite literal."

Not for the first time, Governess wondered what had possessed her to take this job.

* * *

Like the day before, the hours following the feeding frenzy of adventurers were exceptionally slow and uneventful. A few people popped by, most to look over jobs or turn in a completed contract.

Luckily, her boredom was stopped a few hours into her sift by the arrival of Inspector, who looked equal parts annoyed and tired. At first, she had stopped at Guild Girl.

"The promotion interviews for today are ready, _he's_ up there." The word was said with such disdain that Governess actually flinched, it was unexpected coming from the usually aloof woman. Guild Girl seemed to share, if only partially, in Inspector's disdain for this nebulous man, flinching as well. Governess chose not to question why they apparently loathed this man so much, instead opting to continue listening.

"How many?" Guild Girl asked after a few moments of contemplation. Inspector offered an apologetic smile at her friend's question.

"Seven." Guild Girl looked just about on the verge of tear at that announcement but held herself together. She seemed to think for a moment, and then another.

Finally, a sadistic, cruel grin spread across her face, catching both Inspector and Governess off-guard, the latter far more worried than the former.

"I have an idea," Guild Girl announced slowly and deliberately, turning slowly in Governess's direction. The young woman swallowed nervously as those evil, conniving eyes fell upon her, "Why don't we use this as a training day for our newest recruit."

Governess swallowed nervously again.

"I'd rather not throw her to the wolves quite yet, Guild Girl. She's only dealt with a few of our more… outrageous adventurers."

A third swallow.

"Oh, she'll be fine," Guild Girl waved away the complaint as her eyes remained firmly locked on Governess, "The best way to learn is on the job, after all."

A fourth swallow combined with nervous sweat.

Inspector sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose before turning to Governess with an expression of deep regret.

"Okay, okay. Come on, Lady Governess, I'll explain what we're doing on the way." Governess looked from the evilly smiling Guild Girl to the defeated Inspector, wondering what kind of job she had just agreed to take part in.

"Alright?" Governess followed Inspector back into the depths of the Guild building. They traveled through the winding corridors and hallways, eventually ending at the meetings rooms on the third floor. Several adventurers were waiting outside in a cue, their eyes being drawn to the newcomers. Much to Governess's surprise, they all managed to hold their tongues and keep from speaking or commenting on her. Evidently, they feared that their interview may be ruined by whatever they say here.

Smart people.

Governess dipped her head to them with a kindly smile before entering the room behind Inspector.

The interior, much like the rest of the Guild building, was well furnished and quaint. The one wall that held any windows was where the desk was set up, the windows themselves flanking the chair and large, wooden desk. In front of the desk was a couch, to its right sat a simple, wooden chair.

In that chair was the only other person in the room, a man wearing heavy looking armor and a rather bizarre hairstyle. His posture, from how he was sitting in the chair to the expression on his face, oozed both confidence and arrogance. Governess groaned inwardly, she was dealing with one of _those_ people. He reminded her, more than she wanted to admit, of her now former arranged husband. Granted, this man was built more like a soldier or warrior versus the spindly, skeletal man she was arranged to marry, but the same oozing arrogant confidence was there.

"Hello, Spearman," Inspector said in greeting, her kindness clearly forced, "Are you ready to begin?"

The man gave Governess a once over, looking clearly put out that it wasn't Guild Girl up here.

"Since when did the Guild hire children?" Oh, right in ego with that one. Governess opened her mouth, formulating a biting insult for the man before her, but she was silenced by Inspector. Evidently, the one sensed the retort and scrambled to keep the two of them from killing one another.

"I can ensure you that lady Governess is far more mature than she seems at first appearance." The man's eyebrow raised at that, turning his attention back to Governess.

"Governess? As in the one that sticks around with that Demon Slayer guy?"

"He prefers Deathtrooper, but yes." Governess expected some fearful reaction, after all, most everyone was terrified of DT or worshipped him. The man showed neither, surprisingly schooling his face into a nonchalant mask.

"Huh. Alright, fine. Let's see what you got, kid." Another jab, but Governess let it slide. She went behind the desk, sitting in the comfortable chair behind it and pulling the nearby stack of papers out in front of her. Inspector came to stop on her left, leaning in and explaining the score

"Okay, so these interviews are about promotions for adventurers. This book here," She pushed over a thick, ancient looking hardcover, "Tells you the rules and regulations for each rank. My job is to tell if they are lying or not. Here are all the adventurers, call one in when you're ready."

The stack of papers listed everything from the 'names' of the adventurers to the last time they ordered food at the Guild. Say what you will about the Guild, but they keep some good records.

The first was a 'Fire Mage', pretty self-explanatory what he did.

"Fire Mage!" She called with a yell, separating his information from the rest. After a few silent moments, Governess made to call his name out again when the door opened. A young man, perhaps a couple years older than she was, poked his head in and looked around worriedly. Governess placed a kindly, welcoming smile on her face, nodding to the young man.

"Fire Mage, please, come in." She said, indicating to the couch in front of her. The young man swallowed, stepping in silently and closing the door. He was rather short, his body shape a mystery part in thanks to the large, orange robes he was wearing. In his hand was a long, metal staff topped by an orange flame that Governess could guarantee was a fire hazard.

Fire Mage shuffled over to the couch, sitting down while taking in the trio with nervous glances. Governess continued to smile, hoping it didn't look too creepy.

"Mr. Fire Mage, it says here that you filed for a promotion…" Governess read over the date before repeating it.

"I-I did." The young man confirmed, his eyes still darting from person to person. Governess briefly wondered what kind of horror stories he had heard about the interviews to lead to such a reaction.

"Could you explain to us what warranted this request?" Governess asked, following the script she was given to a certain extent. It was too kind and accepting sounding in her mind, if they, the adventurers, want the chance to make more money in the Guild and fight bigger monsters, then they'll have to be less afraid of some interviewer.

There was a shift in his demeanor, the worried attitude replaced by a wistful remembrance. He leaned back, looking off into space as he spoke.

"We were hunting a golem near 'Lake Town', it had been harassing a few caravans from a cavern…"

"Golem?" Governess interrupted, unfamiliar with such a monster. Inspector leaned in, elaborating.

"Big monsters made of a single or several materials. They are typically the culmination of darker magics that coalesced into one hateful being." Governess nodded slowly in understanding, though it sounded like a bunch of recited nonsense from a textbook by someone who believed themselves far smarter than they actually were.

"Ah, continue," Governess nodded to the young man, who swallowed nervously and spoke.

"As I was saying, my group and I found the cave and entered. We traveled for a little while before the golem attacked. It… killed one of ours and injured another, leaving just two of us," He explained, his voice faltering ever so slightly at the mention of his friend's deaths. Governess merely sat patiently, waiting for him to continue, "I… I don't know how I did it, but I cast the largest 'Fire Stream' I had ever managed in my life, melting the stone beneath its feet." Governess was incredulous at this, she knew the melting point of stone was extremely high, so to not only cast a 'spell' of that power, but not kill everyone around him was a bit of a stretch. However, when Governess looked over at Inspector, the other woman just shrugged.

"He's telling the truth," She stated, a hint of her own skepticism in her voice. Governess cleared her throat, returning her attention to the young man before her.

"As you were saying."

"R-Right, After it sunk half a meter or so, I tried to melt the body itself. It didn't take long for me to realize that whatever magic was holding it together made it impervious to my fire. So I… did something that was a bit of a bad idea." He paused looking a little bashful and ashamed of whatever he did. Governess waved her hand, signaling for him to elaborate. After a few moments, he obliged.

"I… melted the ceiling of the cavern directly above it."

"Ah." Governess could already guess at the outcome of taking part of the ceiling of a cavern out.

"Yeah… We were able to get our injured out, but it took both of us to carry him so we had to leave our dead friend behind…" Governess let him have a moment of silence for his fallen friend, leaning back and whispering to Inspector.

"What do you think?" She asked quietly, the other woman leaning in.

"The golem he described sounds like a stone golem, Ruby rank. Don't know how he got his way into a job like that, but it doesn't matter now. Records state he is a Porcelain, so even fighting the thing would warrant a promotion." Governess nodded, turning back to the young man. He wasn't looking at her, instead staring fearfully at Spearman, who was regarding the young man with equal parts contempt and annoyance.

"Well, Mr. Fire Mage, it seems everything checks out. In two days time we will have your new badge, please, have a nice day." The young man's eyes widened comically. He rose and bowed low, saying his thanks before escaping in a hurry.

"That went well," Governess commented happily, sifting through the next papers. Spearman, however, seemed of another mind about what had transpired.

"What a weakling," He muttered darkly, hands wrapped behind his head as his namesake rested across his lap.

"Pardon?" Governess asked, slightly taken aback.

"The kid," The man scoffed, "A golem is all it takes to get a promotion nowadays? Please, they're a piece of cake to take care of. I guess they let anyone join the Guild nowadays." Before Governess could respond, how she intended to do that was a mystery to even her, Inspector spoke.

"Oh, they must be easy for you, Spearman. The sheer size of your ego would crush them from a quarter kilometer away."

"Ah, and there's the ever sharp-tongued Inspector. No wonder you can't get a man, if your personality was any more venomous I would think you were a basilisk." Spearman retorted, still not looking over at Inspector. The woman, however, was not so composed.

"What did you just say?" There was a sweetness in her voice, but Governess was not so easily fooled by it. Behind that sweetness was a venom potent enough to kill a rancor.

This was going to be a long day.

* * *

As it turned out, it was. The duo spent the next four hours of interviews at one another's throats. Governess, caught in between, was forced to more or less do all the interviews on her own. She denied more than half of the promotion requests, either because the person was qualified enough or because she couldn't really tell if they were lying or not.

Apparently, Inspector needed to be calm and level headed to properly use her 'miracles', the apparent name for their magic, and tell if someone was lying or not. As she learned sometime later, Guild Girl would have acted as the mediator between the two, or perhaps a more poignant point would be that she acted as a wall.

Inspector respected as well as feared Guild Girl, and Spearman was rather attracted to the young woman. Naturally, his definition of flirting was by gloating about his many accomplishments, but to each his own.

When the end of the day, thankfully, came, Governess made her way home at a sluggish pace. Her once raging headache had started to get better, the constant bickering of Inspector and Spearman certainly didn't help things, but the exhaustion she had felt upon arriving at the Guild had tripled by the time she left.

Governess made a quick stop at a shop, buying some food before dragging herself back to the hotel.

Inside, she ate exactly three bites of some bizarre sandwich before giving up, climbing in bed, and passing out.

She would sleep for nearly twelve hours.

* * *

The next day comes, and with it counter duty. Governess was immensely thankful for that, mostly because yesterday's paperwork needed to be done. Thankfully, Inspector felt apologetic enough about how she acted yesterday to deal with the paperwork _for_ Governess.

When she got to work half-an-hour or so before opening, she found everything had already been set-up and readied for the coming storm. Everyone took their positions, Guild Girl and Governess behind the counter and Inspector by the door, awaiting the signal to open it.

"A lot of goblin jobs building up," Governess commented as she looked them over, many of the same quests involving goblins from prior days were still up, untaken.

"They do until Goblin Slayer comes around again and gathers them all up." Guild Girl stated, looking towards the door as a dull roar started to emanate from behind it, "Ready?"

Governess nodded, steeling herself for the coming story while placing her brightest smile yet. Guild Girl, in turn, nodded towards Inspector, who unlocked and pulled open the doors.

The usual wave of adventurers poured in, chatting among themselves. The bulk of them headed straight for the canteen portion of the Guild, some looking over the jobs to get an idea of what they wanted to take when the jobs were 'opened'.

After a few minutes, when most everyone had already finished their food and drink, Guild Girl called out to them.

"Attention Adventurers, the jobs are now open!" A loud cheer followed her announcement, one that Governess swore made the window near her rattle.

Like a tidal wave, adventurers filed over to the board of jobs. A few quickly snatched some up, bringing the quests either to her or to Guild Girl. A few higher ranked adventurers came by, handing over contracts for jobs equal to or lower than their rank. They were polite for the most part, the shock value of her being there had worn off somewhat. A few of the higher ranks were arrogant, though few met the level Spearman was at.

Eventually, a few lower ranks came by, some she had to rebuff while other she accepted. The last group was a team of three Porcelain ranked kids, though they all seemed around her age.

She regarded them with a kind smile, accepting the contract and looking it over.

"Ah, goblin hunting?" She asked conversationally, setting it down and grabbing her stamp.

"Yup," One of them responded as Governess made to stamp the paper, "Our first quest!" Governess faltered at that, the stamp mere centimeters from the paper in question. She looked up at them in shock, her eyes slowly taking in each of their appearances and weapons. None of them were very heavily armed or in any way ready to fight in close quarters.

"Your first goblin hunting quest?" She asked hopefully, hoping this lot was just a bunch of greenhorns. To her horror, they were.

"First quest!" Corrected the first one, evidently not catching either the worry in her tone or the apprehension on her face. His two partners, however, weren't so neglectful.

"Is there a problem?" One of them asked with a worried tone. Governess chanced a glance to the right, finding Guild Girl talking with a party of adventurers. Chancing it, she leaned in and spoke in a quiet tone to them.

"I wouldn't recommend… goblins for your very first job, they are far more dangerous than the ranking system lets on." They looked skeptical, something Governess could understand. After all, goblins weren't notorious or anything for raiding villages, overpowering guards, killing entire parties of adventures…

How is it that this kind of information isn't common knowledge?!

"They're Porcelain ranking, they can't be that tough." The first boy, who Governess assumed was the leader of sorts, scoffed. Governess, switching tactics, scowled.

"That's what I thought, too. Had it not been for my body… Friend, I would have died or worse at their hands." They looked confused, so Governess continued, "My friend is a bit of a badass, pardon my language, goblins are little more than a nuisance to him. Me, though, the few times I've dealt with goblins…" She sighed, pinching her nose while thinking how to explain to them the dangers of facing goblins.

"Listen, do you know who Priestess and Goblin Slayer are?"

And so she regaled them with horror stories she knew about goblins told by the few other people she had talked to. With each one, fear seemed to fill their eyes, regret in choosing the quest that they had.

When Governess finished her last story, she watched their reactions. Two of them looked horrified, the 'leader' was unreadable.

"So, do you still want to do the goblin quest?" She asked, hope in her voice.

"No, we… We'll need to get stronger for that." The leader announced his voice resolute. Governess nodded, stowing the paper beneath the counter.

"Good choice, please, pick any Porcelain job listed." As they left, Governess sighed in relief, she saved a few lives in only for a little while.

* * *

The day progressed as was expected, the Porcelain rankers took a job hunting giant rats in the sewers, Governess returning to goblin slaying job to the quest board.

"How about a break?" Guild Girl asked, looking over the collection adventurers still in the Guild. None of them showed any sign of moving to take a quest.

Governess shrugged before nodding, leaving the counter in search of a table. Guild Girl disappeared into the backroom, likely in search of someone to watch the counter while they were indisposed.

Finding a table, Governess ordered some drinks and food for her and Guild Girl. After a few minutes, the older woman returned. Their positions at the desk were taken over by two of the other employees, though their names escaped Governess at the moment.

They chatted nonsensically for a while about random adventurers or things that had happened in town and the local area.

Governess, however, was not so fooled by Guild Girl's kindly attitude and apparent contentment with talking about nonsense. She wasn't one to randomly call breaks just because it wasn't busy. Her kindly attitude was a facade, hiding away the real purpose of her decision.

Eventually, her answer came after their food was delivered, leaving the duo alone for an extended period of time.

"I saw you dissuade those Porcelains from taking that goblin quest," And there it was, the off-hand way she was talking hid the woman's true emotions on the fact.

"So I did." Governess commented in the same tone, making it clear that she didn't regret or feel ashamed for what she did. Guild Girl looked up, meeting Governess's eyes with a look of both regret and resolution.

"Lady Governess, you understand my feelings on goblins and goblin slaying jobs but rules are rules."

"Even if those rules get people killed? _Children_ killed?" Governess asked, her voice still not betraying any of the emotion her eyes displayed quite clearly.

"You're arguing a moot point, lady Governess. It's wrong, sending them off like child soldiers, but it is also necessary. If they don't take the jobs, then who will protect the towns, the villagers?" Guild Girl demanded, her own voice starting to display her growing anger and exasperation. Governess raised an inquisitive eyebrow, however, the answer to her question was quite obvious.

"Goblin Slayer?" She pointed out, earning a dejected and defeated sigh from Guild Girl.

"I will admit, he is… _good_ at what he does, but Goblin Slayer is still only one man. He can only kill so many goblins. For each one he killed, twenty more will take its place. He simply isn't able to kill them fast enough." Governess, while it pained her to admit it, knew this much. If only there were dozens more Goblin Slayers around, that would certainly see the destruction of the entire damned race.

For once in her life, Governess wished she had a detachment of Stormtroopers at her disposal. They would have made short work of the goblins as a whole.

* * *

Another day passed before DT returned from his quest with Heavy Warrior and Female Knight, all of them carrying the bloodstained pelts of some large lupine pelts. They walked up to the counter, talking amicably among themselves.

"You're back, here you had me worrying that you had died." Governess tutted at DT, who stopped at the desk and idly scratched at some stained blood on his armor.

"I know, it must pain you to see me alive and walking once again." He deadpanned, earning a small cough from Heavy Warrior.

"What, lose my favorite subject of mockery?" Governess asked, looking aghast as she accepted the contract from Female Knight. She found the bag of coins hidden away, turn it over to the woman.

"I forgot how much love there was here. Female Knight and Heavy Warrior were just too likable and kind, it felt wrong." DT said, taking the coins Female Knight offered him.

"We're getting a drink, join us?" Asked Female Knight as she shifted the pelts on her shoulders. DT put up a finger, briefly turning towards her.

"In a minute," At his words, the woman shrugged and quickly walked after Heavy Warrior. DT turned back to Governess, shifting his head so the weight of the pelts was offset somewhat.

"Did I miss much?" He asked, the conversational tone really crashing with the voice-distorting feature on his helmet. Governess shrugged, choosing not to mention the night she spent with Shaman and Marksman, there was no telling what he would do if he heard she had gotten into a fight.

"Not much, it's been pretty boring and quiet without you."

"Oh, did you miss me?" He mocked, leaning against the counter.

"Much in the same way one misses a fungus."

"You wound me." Governess scoffed, waving him away as she took the contract.

"Get, go to your drinking buddies, I need to sort this away," DT responded with a thumbs up, walking away into the crowd of watching patrons, all of him made it their task to look anywhere by at DT when the man turned around. Governess chuckled, walking into the Guild's back room, passing Guild Girl on the way.

"DT's back, need to go give this to Archivist so she can sort it away." Governess explained when Guild Girl gave her a confused glance.

"Ah," Was all she said as they went their opposite ways. Governess made her way through the labyrinth, finally learning what turns to make and wherein the sea of near-identical halls.

She found the Archivist's room, a small sign on it saying 'work in progress; do not disturb'. Governess opened the little mail slot installed, pushing the paper through before leaving. Archivist rarely left her room, arriving early in the morning and working late into the night, sifting through piles of old files. It was her job to deal with many of the completely out-of-date files, sorting them away where they would never be found again. Who knows how many decades the Adventurer's Guild goes back, but Governess could guess that there were some books and files back there worth a lot of money to the right people.

She returned to the front, finding Guild Girl speaking with a bright smile and kind tone to two newcomers; Goblin Slayer and Priestess. Priestess perked up at the appearance of Governess, a smile coming to her lips as she moved to talk to her.

"Hi, Governess!" She said in greeting, her usually shy demeanor forgotten when talking to a person she was already friendly with. Governess regarded her with a smile of her own, meeting her at the desk.

"Priestess, how've you been?" Governess asked in her own form of a greeting. Priestess shrugged, gripping her staff close to her body.

"The usual, hunting goblins, killing goblins, clearing goblin caverns." She listed off, looking more defeated with each word as if the reality of how many goblins she helped deal with was only just hitting her. Governess defused the situation with a jovial laugh, leaning onto the counter.

They talked for a few more minutes before DT returned, still carrying his pelts and wearing his filthy helmet.

"You know, DT, I hear cleaning does wonders for one's complexion." Commented Governess as she truly took in his armor. It was usually a pain to see any markings, given that it was just black, but the sheer amount of grime and blood ensure the suit no longer gleamed as it usually did.

"I was intending to do that, just need to drop these direwolf pelts off," DT explained with a shrug, shifting the pelts still on his shoulder. Governess nodded, turning back to talk to Governess before DT spoke up again, this time directed at Goblin Slayer.

"Just got back from goblin hunting, I assume?" The man asked, drawing Goblin Slayer's attention for the now slightly scowling Guild Girl.

"Yes."

"Huh…" DT seemed to spy the new contract the man was holding, "Going out again immediately?"

"Yes." The man's short answers were starting to get on Governess's mood, but the other three seem unaffected, evidently expecting this from the man.

"Oh! Sir Deathtrooper, you should come with us!" Priestess suddenly said, as if remembering something. DT turned to face her, his usually intimidating demeanor not having any effect on her, at least, not anymore. Apparently seeing DT being verbally lashed by Governess made Priestess realize that man was not as intimidating as he usually seemed. Of course, she had yet to see him rip the spine out of a goblin and beat its kin to death with it.

DT got exceptionally creative in the dungeon, surprising given that he was essentially a droid for most of his life.

DT hummed for a moment, cocking his head as he looked down at Priestess.

"Sure, but why?"

"The next place we're going is an old fortress, I figured someone of your expertise would do well there!" Priestess explained amicably, though DT still seemed confused.

"Which expertise?"

"I think," Governess responded in Priestess's stead, "She is referring to your ability to cause large explosions and obscene amounts of damage."

"Ah," DT responded, looking back to Priestess, "Very well, it will be my honor… Going that Goblin Slayer accepts my help." The black armored soldier turned to face Goblin Slayer, who came to realize that all eyes had fallen on him.

"Okay," He responded with his usual Goblin Slayer bluntness and lack of emotion.

"Okay, I'll be back soon, I need to sell these and clean up." With that, DT left, hefting his stack of pelts on his shoulder as he went. Goblin Slayer, turned towards Guild Girl, turning the contract over.

"Good luck, then, Goblin Slayer," The woman said brightly, "I'm sure you're in safe hands with Sir Deathtrooper."

"I see," The man responded simply, accepting the new stamped contract and leaving the building while folding the contract up. Priestess quickly ran to catch up, waving her goodbye to the other two as she went.

The door shut, leaving Guild Girl and Governess alone in one another's company once again. Governess was about to make a comment, whether it be about DT's smell or Goblin Slayer's attitude she did not know, but stopped short. Guild Girl, seemingly forgetting present company, lowered her head on one hand and sighed longingly, her wistful stare aimed at the door through which Goblin Slayer had just vanished.

A cruel smile made its way onto Governess's face, a disheartening look on her usually cutesy features. Leaning in, she spoke in a low voice to Guild Girl.

"Fantasizing about Goblin Slayer, are we? Wondering how fit he is under that armor?" She asked in a sing-songy tone. Guild Girl, clearly not aware of who it was that spoke, nodded absently in agreement.

"He's so…" The woman paused, a blush spreading across her face like a wildfire as she remembered who it was standing next to her.

"Dreamy? Yeah, I can tell that between the goblin killing and stoicism, he's got a real heart." Governess commented with a smile, Guild Girl turning to look at the younger woman with mounting horror.

"W-Wait, I didn't, you… No!" Her voice was unnaturally high, earning a few curious glances from the nearby adventurers as the usually level headed Guild Girl became a sputtering mess. Governess, despite this, showed no mercy.

"I will admit, he sounds nice. Haven't seen his face, though. Wonder how much of a looker he is? Of course, you've probably got me beat in the imagination department, don't you? Envisioning the day he will come take you like a knight in shining armor, and you his damsel in distress!" Governess said with a sweet voice, twirling and generally acting like a nuisance. Now more people were focused on the duo, both acting way out of character based on what they had seen thus far. Once, Governess didn't much care.

"I didn't say…" Guild Girl faltered for a moment before narrowing her eyes and trying a different tactic, attacking, "You would know a thing or two about fit, wouldn't you? After all, you live with Sir Deathtrooper."

Governess, used to this line of questioning from everyone who saw the duo together, scoffed and waved her hand without an ounce of embarrassment.

"Please, he's got about a decade on me. We're more like close friends or… I don't know, he's like my weird but cool uncle." Governess explained before turning her wide smile back on Guild Girl.

"Now, if that's how you compare our relationships, then I think you and I need to have a talk about what incest is."

"B-But, you two aren't even related!"

"That's true," Governess agreed with an ever-widening smile, "But that doesn't make comparing the two of us any better."

Seeing that Governess was not going to be backing off, Guild Girl groaned pitifully.

* * *

The following day found Governess taking her break around midday, Guild Girl holding down the fort for a bit as Governess ate. The day had been pretty average, Marksman and Shaman passing by to pick up a quest and a bite to eat before heading out to take care of some goblins with, ironically, the man that had helped Governess get them home. His name was 'Iron Monk', well trained in hand-to-hand. His name came from the fact that he was excessively strong, crushing bones and rock alike… or so they said.

The man was far too humble to lend any credence to such an idea, he was more amused by it than anything.

Goblin Slayer and Priestess were off on one of their jobs, DT 'training' with Female Knight. Training for those two usually meant them beating the ever living shit out of each other. It became a deal between them, DT trains her in hand-to-hand, she trans him in using swords. The icing on the cake was that they didn't have to pay her anymore as she was getting some training out if to. Sometimes Heavy Warrior would join in, and that was a real battle when it was between him and DT. Their strength was about equal, so while DT relied upon his superior training, Heavy Warrior relied upon his bulkier size.

Speaking of the devil, Governess turned as she watched the man shamble in, looking around for her. Upon spotting her, DT hobbled over and took the seat across from her with a groan. Governess cracked a wry smile, leaning back in her seat as she looked him over.

"What happened to you?"

"Female Knight and Heavy Warrior decided to double team me," He groaned, rolling his shoulder with a groan of pain.

"Who won?"

"Female Knight's concussion tells me I win, but my bruises and battered limbs tell them they won, so it's up for debate."

"Maybe I can act as referee next time?" Governess asked only half in jest. The man scoffed at that, waving away the approaching waitress.

"Sure, in a few weeks. Did you know that the blast mesh doesn't stop blunt attacks? My kidney and I certainly didn't." Governess laughed out loud at DT's grumbling, he was clearly put out about the low blow.

"Laugh it up, I'm going to bath and rest my poor kidney."

"You don't want to stick around and have something to eat?" Governess asked as she got up and popped his back.

"No, I'll eat at the room. Need to watch it, my stomach is rather tumultuous at the moment."

"Using big words doesn't make you smart." Governess warned with a sing-songy tone. He chose to ignore that, or so it seemed, as he vanished back out the door. Governess cackled before returning to her food.

After a few minutes of eating, the door behind her opened. While Governess didn't see it, too immersed in her food, three newcomers stepped inside, all three distinctly _not_ human.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I own neither Star Wars nor Goblin Slayer, but if I did I would ensure that original post-Endor lore up until the Yuuzhan Vong invasion remained cannon.**

* * *

 **Deathtrooper**

 **Chapter 10 (Part 1 (See A/N at the bottom)**

 **Interlude (Deathtrooper/DT-227)**

* * *

Before arriving at this planet, DT-227 falsely believed that he and his ilk's skill in combat were unmatched save by a few choice, and powerful, individuals. Lord Vader, his inquisitors, on the list goes.

After coming to this planet and being forced to raise a blade against not just a monstrous "demon" but also Female Knight, his views may have been slightly wrong.

"What, getting tired?" Mocked the woman in question, her voice cutting off his thinking. The man narrowed his eyes at her, not that it was seen by the woman from under his helmet.

Though he wouldn't admit it, he was getting tired. Female Knight had a skill with the blade like what he had with a blaster. Accurate, fast, and made few if any mistakes. They had been spending the better part of the last hour dueling and training, each time seeing DT-227 either ending flat on his arse or with a blade pressed to his throat. It was a foregone conclusion, not that it stopped him from at least trying to beat her.

"Not yet," DT-227 answered shortly, giving his blade a couple spins. It was a trick Female Knight taught him, it wasn't practical in combat but it did give the _illusion_ that he knew what he was doing with a sword.

Her words, not his.

The woman usually serious face twisted into a look of glee. Plain, even glee. She waited, her stance low and shield held aloft, for his attack. There was a looseness, not that he could tell from her armor. It was more her stance, a stance that he had become rather familiar with. A stance that screamed she didn't see him as too much of a threat. Female Knight knew how much it infuriated DT-227, this time being no different.

Relying on his speed, DT-227 closed the distance in record time. His blade whistled through the air, gunning straight for the woman's chest-

And she was gone. Female Knight twisted to the side, swinging her own blade- She stopped as her hilt collided with his helmet. It wasn't because of some failure on her part, no, it had become a sign between them. A sign that said 'you fucked up'.

DT-227 scowled, turning and following with another slash. This one bounced uselessly off of her shield, causing little more than sparks. He cringed, knowing damn well he had left himself open to retaliation. Female Knight, naturally, did not disappoint. Her shield moved aside, pushing his sword as it went. Her sadistic smile, matched with the glinting of her blade, made DT-227 regret diving so hard.

 _Thunk!_

The sound of her sword bouncing uselessly off his chest plate meant the match was over, and as was usual, he had been defeated. Female Knight stepped back, sheathing her sword in a flashing show of prowess. DT-227, albeit with far less showmanship, did the same.

"Sloppy, DT, sloppy." The woman clicked her tongue and shook her head, earning yet another scowl from DT-227. Female Knight seemed to make fighting him seem effortless, despite his superior strength and, most times, speed as well.

"How about hand-to-hand practice?" DT-227 asked with a growing sadistic grin on his face, Female Knight's face paling significantly, "I think we've covered swords enough for today."

"Err… Well, would you look at the time!" She suddenly exclaimed, looking up at the sun as it shone down on them. DT-227 scoffed under his breath but granted her this retreat. After all, while she could beat him when it came to the blade, DT-227 could handily pummel the young woman when it came to CQC.

"Alright, alright. Let's head back, then," DT-227 said, going over to where he had left his blaster. Slinging it over his shoulder, DT-227 joined the other two in their trek back to town, talking with their usual banter and good-natured jokes.

"That reminds me," Female Knight suddenly announced in the middle of the conversation, surprising both DT-227 and Heavy Warrior, "Heavy Warrior and I are headed out tomorrow to take a job clearing some Direwolves, you should come with!" DT-227 raised an eyebrow and was, tough flattered, surprised.

"You want me to come with? What's the raking?" Female Knight seemed to think on this for a moment, cocking her head and staring off into the empty space before her.

"It was… Ruby, methinks." She looked over to Heavy Warrior for confirmation, the man nodding in agreement.

"Outside my rank," DT-227 pointed out, though he was more than confident that these 'direwolves' weren't much of a challenge for him.

"Guild rules state that the level of quest a group can take maxes out at their highest ranked member, that being Silver for us." Heavy Warrior pointed out before giving an amused smirk, "If I didn't know any better, I would think you were trying to get out of it. What, a few direwolves to much a challenge for the infamous 'Demon Slayer'?" DT-227 snorted at that, not taking the bait. Seeing as there was no reason _not_ to go, he responded thusly:

"Okay, okay. I'm game, but what are you two Silvers doing, picking up a Ruby ranked quest like this?" DT-227 asked, looking over to Female Knight, who had begun scowling.

"Lack of Silver ranked quests," Heavy Warrior explained before Female Knight could bite out a remark, "Seems the danger is moving back towards the capital. Say, you should sign up for fighting the demons. You've already destroyed one, a big one of the stories are true."

"Yeah! When are you going to tell us the whole story?!" Female Knight suddenly joined back in, sounding indignant with a mock tone of betrayal. DT-227 scoffed and rolled his eyes, amused by her theatrics.

"When I'm dead, it's more embarrassing on my part than anything. To answer your question, Heavy Warrior, one demon is enough for me. It may sound callous, but so long as those demons stay from Governess and, by extension, me, then I couldn't give a damn what they do." DT-227 explained, a small feeling of shame pulling at his heart. Those words were only partially true, his morality was still all kinds of screwed up. He was still, as Governess said: 'A murderous bastard, but not as much of a murderous bastard'. An unfair assessment in his mind, he hadn't even killed another person yet!

"Eh, I feel you," Heavy Warrior, much to DT-227's surprise, agreed, "I'm sorry for what's happening out there, but the Frontier is my home and so long as the demons don't touch it, I'm content." DT-227 nodded along to the man's words, finding a certain amount of agreement in them. He turned towards Female Knight, wondering what her justification was given her talking about 'justice' and 'chivalry' in every other sentence.

Apparently sensing DT-227's stare, she flushed and opened her mouth to likely give some indignant remark, but was stopped in the nick of time by Heavy Warrior, sparing her the embarrassment of trying to justify herself.

"Female Knight here has about as much sense as a newborn calf, especially when it comes to traversing the landscape. They say the most devout and holy are, typically, the most gullible," A wide grin spread across Heavy Warrior's face as he turned his gaze over to the steadily flushing woman, who seemed torn between telling him off and completely ignoring him.

"Sounds like there is a story there," DT-227 commented lightly, smiling as Female Knight rounded on the duo.

"There is no such thing, and if you tell him anything I will _castrate_ you!" She snapped, her voice high and clearly embarrassed by the subject of the conversation.

"Of course," Heavy Warrior commented lightly, his smile never faltering even in the face of her anger. The woman glared up into his eyes, likely trying to sense the lie before grumbling something and storming off. The moment she was out of earshot, Heavy Warrior leaned in closer to DT-227 and spoke in a low tone.

"I'll tell you the story later, so long as you tell me what happened with that demon."

"You, sir, have a deal." They both broke out laughing, once again drawing the heated glare of one Female Knight.

"Okay, where are we meeting up in the morning?" DT-227 asked, Female Knight, forgetting her anger for a moment, explained.

"Meet us by the north entrance around dawn, we want to get there are early as possible and clear it before the direwolves can cause any more damage to the local area," Female Knight explained as she matched their pace. She had to do a rather quick walk to keep pace with them, due to both Heavy Warrior and DT-227 have long strides thanks to their startling height.

"Huh… Is there any information you can give me on the job?" DT-227 asked, he wasn't intending to enter another job blindly, not after the disaster that was the mineshaft. It had nearly cost Governess her life, and another slip might lose DT-227 his.

"Dunno, some direwolves. The bounty said something about a new pack leader." Female Knight explained absently, earning a raised eyebrow from DT-227. He looked over to Heavy Warrior, hoping the man would elaborate, but he gave an embarrassed shrug.

"I let her pick out the job," Heavy Warrior explained, earning a nod from DT-227.

"I see, well there was your first mistake."

"Oi, I take offense from that!" She responded, sounding hurt as she put a hand over her heart. DT-227 rolled his eyes and continued walking forwards.

"Think of this job as our celebration of your promotion, DT," Heavy Warrior announced, putting an arm around the Deathtrooper's shoulders.

"No better a reward than the chance to dispatch new foes," DT-227 quoted his first handler, some sociopathic, nationalistic Imperial who thought rainbows came out of the Emperor's arse and Lord Vader was spreading the freedom of the Empire to the galaxy.

"Damn right," Heavy Warrior agreed.

* * *

Heavy Warrior and Female Knight split apart from DT-227, headed towards a nearby pub for a few drinks. They invited DT-227 along, but much to their amusement, he had to refuse. It was less the refusal that amused them, and more the explanation as to why:

"If I leave her to her own devices too long, she'll do something I'll regret," The man explained with a hint of resignation.

"You'll regret?" Female Knight repeated with a wry smirk. DT-227 sighed, running a hand down the front of his helmet.

"She seems to lack a certain sense of regret for her actions, so I'll have to feel it in her absence."

Heavy Warrior shook his head and clicked his tongue in response, suddenly looking mournful.

"I understand completely," The man said, seemingly forgetting Female Knight was standing right next to him. As her heel came down on his foot, she waved good-bye to DT-227 with a broad, if a little sadistic, smile.

"Remember, dawn, north entrance!"

"Got it!" DT-227 walked away, headed in the direction of the small restaurant he and Governess had agreed to meet at the end of their respective days.

The town, DT-227 came to realize as he traversed the streets, was beginning to fill up with people getting off work and those heading out to get a bite at their local pubs and shops. Hoping to beat the rush, DT-227 picked up the pace to Governess's favorite restaurant.

It was already starting to fill up, but DT-227 managed to get a table off in one corner. Governess had not gotten off work yet, meaning DT-227 was free to enjoy a little more peace and quiet.

"How can I help you today, Sir Deathtrooper?" Asked a young waitress, who regarded him with a guarded expression.

"Just water for now," He responded absently, accepting two menus wordlessly. It showed how common it was for both he and Governess to be here together that the waitress gave him two menus without question.

The waitress left, allowing DT-227 to lean back and allow his aching joints to rest. Eventually, however, his peace and rest were interrupted by the arrival of his dear companion: Governess.

With a groan that was a mix of annoyance and exhaustion, she unceremoniously flopped into the seat opposite of him and pressed her face to the table. DT-227 raised an eyebrow at her theatrics but did not comment. As she seemed to catch her breath, DT-227 took the moment to twist and removed his helmet, the familiar hiss like music to his ears. Deathtrooper armor and mesh, much like that of the standard Storm Troopers, was great at keeping moisture passing through.

Sadly, while the mesh protected DT-227 from the elements, it also ensured that any sweat or other… _bodily fluids_ were kept inside as well. A mess when traversing the tumultuous jungles of Kashyyyk while hunting a supposedly dead Jedi.

"So, how _was_ your day?" DT-227 asked pleasantly, running a gloved hand through his sweat, and certainly no longer regulation, hair. DT-227 knew he was opening a can of worms by asking her this question, but it seemed to make Governess feel better when she had a chance to rant and rave about something…

Anything, really.

The waitress returned five minutes into Governess's rant, interrupting the young woman for a few moments as she took their order. It was rather impressive, how fast Governess could shift from raving to calm and kindly. The waitress, evidently noticing this change as well, retreat as quickly as she could. Awaiting the orders now, Governess continued her rant about her job, and namely the horrid experience of the 'record room'.

"Some of those books have to be a century old, at least!" She finished under the wry smile of DT-227. It seemed she regret her decision already, the office life not one she was well suited for.

"Sounds quite horrid," He commented lightly, lifting his cup for a sip while regarding Governess with amusement. Governess groaned, rolled her head so that she could stare up into DT-227's face, a slight pout on her face.

"How about you?" She asked out of the blue, catching DT-227 off guard.

"Pardon?" He asked, confused.

"I'm sitting here, belly-aching about my day, how was yours?" He nearly laughed at the exasperated expression on her face, responding via the raising of an eyebrow and a comedic remark.

"I assume you mean aside from getting thoroughly battered by Female Knight?" He asked, earning the rolling of Governess's eyes as her exasperation seemed to grow.

"Naturally." She bit out.

"Naturally…" DT-227 repeated with an expression of mock hurt before shrugging, "Nothing happened," Suddenly feeling inspired to get back at Governess for her remark, "Just an average, lovely day spent out in the sun where I actively did things and-"

She was an active person, not one to enjoy being locked away inside all day. A free roaming spirit, one might say. DT-227 knew full well his comments about the outside and spending time in it would get under her skin. He was rewarded by an annoyed glance and her cutting him off with a sarcastic tone.

"You're hilarious, DT, a true master of comedy." Governess basically growled, glaring up at DT-227's smirk. After a few moments, DT-227's face changed back to his usually serious expression. It was clear she already disliked her job, even after such a short amount of time, and he wanted to extend the chance to escape it.

"The offer still stands, Governess, if you want to drop this job and get back to adventuring-" Her morose expression hardened as she rose to stare into his eyes, her resolve rather frightening to the Deathtrooper. She had made her case before, but DT-227 wasn't one to back down so easily. Regardless of what she said, it was _his_ fault she decided to drop the adventuring job, his fault she nearly died. It was his carelessness in that mineshaft.

"No, I made my choice and I'm sticking by it. End. Of. Discussion." Her voice made it clear the discussion was off the table, and as much as DT-227 would have loved to argue, he knew it to be a moot point. She was as hard-headed as her father, though given her general reactions the man's name alone he decided voicing that comparison was out of the question.

Luckily, the battle of wills was stemmed somewhat by the arrival of their waitress, who was carrying their food. Clearly sensing the tension in the air, the woman quickly set the food down and escaped as if a pack of mynocks was on her tail.

Wordlessly, partially because of their hunger and partially because the duo were still mad at one another, Governess and DT-227 wolfed down their food. Soon after he got a little way into his meal, DT-227 spoke.

"That reminds me," DT-227 said, drawing Governess's attention, "Heavy Warrior and Female Knight have recruited me for a job, in celebration of my promotion."

The promotion, naturally, referring to the small, black pendant around his neck signifying his jump in rank.

"Their definition of 'celebration' is work?" Governess asked, her amusement clear in her voice as she spoke around her mouthful of food. Wondering where Governess learned her table manners, DT-227 pushed on.

"No better a reward than the chance to dispatch new foes," DT-227 repeated the same mantra he spouted to Heavy Warrior and Female Knight, earning a sigh from Governess.

"Huh… Any idea what the job is about?" Governess asked, choosing to ignore the quote. DT-227 leaned back, a look of concentration coming over his face as he tried to remember, word-for-word, what Female Knight said.

"Female Knight said something about direwolves," DT-227 started, silently cursing the blond for her lack of information, "And a new pack leader, or somewhat."

"Weren't you paying attention?" Governess demanded, sounding surprised at the extremely basic information he had. DT-227 flinched inwardly, agreeing with her.

"I was, but she has a very bizarre way of explaining things. I was just going to have Guild Girl bring out the bounty so I can read it. It would be for the best that I didn't wander into another job blind." Governess nodded in agreement, evidently remembering the last time they went into a job without information or proper equipment.

"When do you head out, then?"

"Early tomorrow, likely before you wake up." Governess hummed in response, thinking on something before responding with a joking, but serious, tone.

"Don't get yourself killed, you hear?" She ordered humorously, jabbing him in the chest with one finger from over the table. The man's smile returned.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"Good," Governess said with a nod, tucking back into her food. DT-227 checked the internal clock on his helmet, finding that the Guild would be closing soon.

They must have let Governess out early. He thought, rising and setting a few coins on the table. At Governess's questioning look, DT-227 explained.

"I'm going to check out the bounty, see what I can learn from it. Don't wait up." She merely nodded, her mouth full of food. DT-227 walked out, nodding to the owner as he passed.

The streets had started to empty out, allowing DT-227 free movement through the streets. Not that anyone would choose to get in his way, DT-227 was still something of a terrifying subject for many in town, though some had started to become used to his intimidating presence.

DT-227 reached the Guild Hall unharassed, finding it nearly empty inside. Only Guild Girl remained, taking down the unclaimed quests.

"Sir Deathtrooper," She said in the form of a greeting, her head dipping respectfully. DT-227 returned the favor with a brisk nod, approaching her as the woman went behind the counter. She had just stowed the papers away when DT-227 reached her, the young woman looking fearlessly up into the black helmet adorned over his head.

"How may I help you, sir?" She asked kindly.

"Female Knight and Heavy Warrior have recruited me for a job about hunting direwolves, I would like to see the contract." DT-227, with his typical no-nonsense mannerisms, stated. Guild Girl, evidently unaffected by his tone, nodded and searched beneath her counter. After a few moments, she freed it from whatever dark crevice the paper had been hidden in and handed it over to DT-227. He nodded his thanks and read it over.

To his mounting horror, he found that the contract described the job just as Female Knight had, with a complete lack of information.

How many direwolves were there? A lot.

What is the terrain like? Woods.

How did the wolves operate? No explanation.

DT-227 groaned inwardly, wondering how Heavy Warrior and Female Knight survived for so long, ranking up despite using such minimal information.

"Thank you," DT-227 said nonetheless, his tone not betraying the annoyance he felt. Once again, Guild Girl bowed as DT-227 left with his thoughts on the coming job.

* * *

The night passed uneventfully, a part of his new life that DT-227 was still trying to get used to. Back on Scarif, and across the galaxy as a whole, there was little downtime for the Deathtrooper corps. Maybe it was the constant need for special forces, or perhaps it was to ensure the Deathtrooper never had a chance to truly think about what they did, whatever it was didn't matter. The fact was, quiet nights were never common for Deathtrooper. Ironically, it was out on missions when they got the most sleep. Out there, one of them could sleep an entire six hours as another had night watch.

Now, DT-227 was living what a Deathtrooper might qualify the lime life. He was allowed eight to ten hours a night to sleep, much of which was spent as a silent vigil until his body allowed him to sleep, and near limitless time to spent as he pleased. Naturally, with little in terms of hobbies DT-227 was relegated to spending most of his time keeping in peak physical condition, not that he was complaining. Something he never felt before coming to this planet kept him fueled and itching to keep training, pride. A sense of pride at his accomplishments, naturally ignoring the fact that he had a few advantages over the average person in the forms of the countless chemicals racing through his veins and the implants dotting about his body.

DT-227 ended his introspection at 5:00 AM sharp if his readjusted clock was anything to go by. He had been relegated to manually setting the clock in his helmet, something that may have to be adjusted when winter came along.

The Deathtrooper rose from his vigil, silent despite the typical clunkiness of his armor, and slipped throughout the room. He collected any and all equipment he needed or thought he might need, all while ensuring he did not disturb the slumbering Governess. He silent breathing being the only sound, DT-227 collected the three blasters and made for the door. He put a hand on the handle and made to turn it before a thought flashed through his brain.

Governess had nothing to defend herself with. After a moment of internal debate on which weapon to leave, DT-227 exit the hotel lacking the shorter of the two blaster rifles.

The town was, naturally, devoid of life. Most everyone was still asleep, anyone that was choosing to stay indoors where it was warm and dry. Morning dew clung to every surface, and though none of it froze, DT-227 guessed the temperature could be seen as uncomfortable to the tired and exhausted.

It took a few minutes for DT-227 to reach the exit where he and the duo agreed to meet. Sure enough, Heavy Warrior was already waiting for him. Much like DT-227, the man looked completely unaffected by the general coolness of the air around them. His armor was clean and well-kept like he had woken up early to meticulously clean it.

"Mornin'," Said Heavy Warrior in form of a greeting, DT-227 merely responding with a hum. They waited, silently, for the last of their part for another half hour.

Finally, Female Knight made her appearance, looking bedraggled and decidedly not happy about being up so early.

"Morning, you look happy and raring to go," Heavy Warrior commented with a broad smile, earning a grumble and glare from the woman. DT-227, feeling up to joining in, stood on her other side and spoke with the same cheerful tone.

"Indeed, though I seem to remember something about 6 AM and that I should be here…"

"Both of you are pricks!" Snapped Female Knight before storming off with a huff. Both men shared a bout of raucous laughter before jogging to catch up with their clearly agitated party member. They walked in silence for a short while before DT-227 decided he needed some answers.

"So, what can you two tell me about direwolves?" He asked, drawing Female Knight from her silent fuming and Heavy Warrior from his off-tone whistling.

"Direwolves?" Repeated Heavy Warrior before looking off into space, "Huh… Well, they're big wolves, for starters."

"Thank you, I would never have gleaned that from the name." Responded DT-227 with a deadpan, earning a rude gesture from Heavy Warrior.

"As I was saying, direwolves can up to about here," Heavy Warrior put his hand to his lower chest, earning a skeptical look from DT-227. Heavy Warrior, unable to see this look, continued, "And are unbelievably strong. One time, a direwolf tackled Female Knight, sent her a good two meters before she hit the ground."

"Okay," Responded Female Knight, sending a more amiable glare towards Heavy Warrior, "That was one time and it was when we first fought them."

Heavy Warrior made a show of seeming deep in thought before responding: "Well-"

"Shut it."

"Yes, ma'am!"

And DT-227 chuckled.

* * *

DT-227 decided, after some convincing, that Heavy Warrior and Female Knight severely downplayed the ability to their foe. This thought came at the heel of a renewed attack from his current foe, a nearly six-foot-tall wolf. It roared fearsomely, launching another attack. DT-227, given a moment to breath, quickly darted to one side and brought his blade up in a smooth motion.

The beast's body seized as its head rolled uselessly on the ground, stopping at Female Knight's foot. She scowled at the head for a second before brightening up.

"Okay, that's one for you! I'm still winning!" She announced, rolling under a diving Direwolf and gutting it in the same movement. DT-227 sighed, shaking his head at the antics of the young woman. Not that he wasn't amused, it was refreshing to see someone so at ease whilst fighting. He, however, fought with the same focused skill as he always did. Guess old habits die hard, eh?

With a flourish, DT-227 finished his next foe, only to groan inwardly as three advanced on him at once. Female Knight was at his side in an instant, a large if slightly manic smile on her glowing face.

Before either party could launch an assault, however, a grunt of pain sounded from their right. DT-227 and Female Knight looked over to see Heavy Warrior in a bit of a bind. One wolf had managed to catch his dominant arm, ensuring he could stop the wolf currently humping its way towards his exposed neck.

"Heavy Warrior!" Shrieking Female Knight in horror. In a moment, she was dashing towards her friend in need, leaving DT-227 to face the rising numbers. Silently cursing her, DT-227 stabbed down the throat of the first leaping wolf, but that seemed to spur the other two into action. With his sword disposed of, DT-227 winced as one of the wolves caught his forearm between its teeth. It did little more than slobber all over it and scratch the buff, than the maker for Imperial engineering.

With his left arm being yanked around, DT-227 was forced to kick the other attacking mutt away, opening enough time to deal with his current attacker. Twisting around, he managed to straddle its back and get his free arm around its neck. A few moments of strangling it forced the beast to release his arm and, with both hands now free, twisted its head around a full 180 degrees.

Its body went limp, allowing DT-227 to move on to the last of the trio, which had managed to orientate itself and was launching a final assault. DT-227, now left with no distractions, met the wolf head on. It pounced, jaws wide open and aiming for the Deathtrooper's throat. DT-227 was far too fast, however, easily ducking beneath the beast and wrapping his arms around its midsection. In a move that, while rather cool looking, would get DT-227 a night in the 'pit' back on Scarif, DT-227 lifted the wolf up and body slammed it to the ground. Now pinning the wolf to the ground, DT-227 delivered to swift and vicious punches to its skull. This was enough, and DT-227 found himself victorious against the trio of animals.

This feeling of victory was soon quashed when, from the darkness of the nearby cavern, two more wolves slinked out with teeth bared. DT-227 swore under his breath, spinning around and looking for his sword.

There, its handle still standing out from a wolf's mouth. He took off towards the sword as the two wolves bounded after him, salivating at the thought of catching the soldier.

With the wolves practically on top of him, DT-227 did something that was, admittedly, rather stupid. Putting one armored foot on the animal, DT-227 wrenched his sword through his side, swinging at the wolves like he was some sort of sports player. The slash, though rather poorly aimed and wobbly, managed to catch the first wolf on the left. Now stuck to his sword, DT-227 used the wolf-like a bat to knock away its kin.

DT-227 quickly freed the sword from the now dead body hanging from it, advancing on the disoriented and confused animal. He kicked it to the ground, holding the wolf down with his foot on its neck. DT-227 twisted his sword around, driving it downwards into the animal's skull. It seized up for a few moments before going limp.

The man sighed, rising to his feet and, with a little effort, bringing his sword with him. Their battlefield was now littered with the corpses of wolves, no survivors or other combatants making themselves known. DT-227's scanning of the battlefield finally landed on Female Knight and Heavy Warrior.

The latter was sitting on the ground, his now bare forearm extended as a bemused look found its way onto his face. It seemed that one of the wolves had gotten lucky, a few of its teeth seeming to have found a way through the man's chainmail. Blood, albeit not a lot, was dripping down his arm. What was slightly amusing was the fact that Female Knight was knelt in front of him, both telling him off for getting separated from she and DT-227, while worrying over if he was in any pain or if the beasts had gotten him in any other way. Heavy Warrior clearly wasn't all that hurt, the man was trying to mop away the blood with a cloth, but Female Knight was adamant to treat the 'wound'. Despite being a tad peeved he had been left to deal with the vast majority of the wolves, in the end, it was amusing to watch Female Knight dance around Heavy Warrior like a teenager, and Heavy Warrior being oblivious to her clear and not-at-all hidden affections.

For the love of the maker, even he had a better grasp on romance and his only experience had been the prattling nonsense Governess told him about (truly, how anyone found any enjoyment in that garbage was beyond him).

DT-227 chuckled and shook his head, grabbing a rag from his belt before cleaning the blood from his sword. As usual, it was damn near glowing with unspoken power, still sharp as the day he had gotten it. Truly, this sword was strange.

"If you two are done," DT-227 interrupted their bickering as he sheathed his blade, now searching for where his discarded blaster went, "I think we still have a contract to complete." Both seemed to stare at him for a second before seemingly remembering the bodies all around them. They scrambled to their feet, Female Knight looking flustered, and gathered their weapons.

The duo joined DT-227, who was once again armed with a blaster, near the mouth of the cavern.

"Anything else I should know about this 'leader' of theirs?" DT-227 asked sarcastically, regarding the duo with an incredulous look. Alas, neither of them had any idea of the look, and his helmet distorted his tone. Heavy Warrior scratched at his cheek with a look of concentration.

"Your guess is as good as ours. No one's seen this mythical leader, but my guess? Werewolf." DT-227 raised an eyebrow, turning from the cave to face the duo.

"Werewolf?" The word was unfamiliar on his tongue. Female Knight jumped in here, cleaning her own sword.

"Aye, massive beasts. Nine or ten foot tall hunched over as they usually are. We've fought a few, they have one weakness," She held the sword up with a proud smile, " _Silver!_ I had the blade of mine forged with silver to counter werewolves and vampires! Yours probably has silver in it, too." Female Knight nodded towards DT-227's own sword, which was still merrily glowing. DT-227 silently held his sword as Heavy Warrior snorted and shook his head.

"Come on, Female Knight, you know better than that. Can't be silver, silver can't hold enchantments worth a damn. No, my guess? Titanite… Or Mythril, given its age."

"Enchantments?" DT-227 asked before another argument could break out between the feuding duo. Female Knight turned her glare from Heavy Warrior to DT-227, shock replacing the annoyed expression.

"You're telling me it never occurred to you that your sword is enchanted? How pristine was it when you found it?" DT-227 held the sword up, noticing the residual blood dripping off the sword in small beads.

"I just assumed it was due to the sword being untouched for centuries." Female Knight waved the argument away, looking at DT-227 as if he were obscenely slow.

"Ya, but in a deep, dark, dank dungeon? Fat chance, I mean, did you fail to notice the blade never got dull?"

"No, though that explains why my attempts to sharpen it granted me little in terms of progress." Silence followed his words, outrage displaying on Female Knight's face as shock seemed to register on Heavy Warrior's. DT-227 looked from one to the other, an unexplained feeling of embarrassment heating his face up slightly.

"What?"

" _WHAT?!_ You're telling me you've been trying to sharpen an ancient, enchanted sword?! A priceless artifact and you've been scraping at it with a common stone?!"

"A common stone? No, I was using a-"

"That isn't the point!" Cried Female Knight, earning a chuckle from Heavy Warrior as he crossed his arms.

"Oh, you aren't one to talk, Female Knight. If memory serves, I remember someone attempt to slap a goblin to death when she first used a sword, one she claimed to have used since childhood." Female Knight flushed a bright shade of red, shooting a glare at DT-227 as if this were somehow his fault. DT-227 merely put his hands up in surrender, letting this play out.

"I did nothing of the sort!" Female Knight snapped, earning a wry grin from the far larger Heavy Warrior.

"I think you did," Heavy Warrior commented condescendingly, further outraging his partner.

"Did not!"

"Did, too."

"Did not!"

"For the love of the maker, will you two get a room already?!" DT-227 exclaimed exasperated, drawing looks from the other two. Somehow, Female Knight managed to blush even more while Heavy Warrior looked rather confused.

"What do you mean by-" Heavy Warrior started, but Female Warrior quickly cut him off. She grabbed his arm and dragged him towards the entrance of the cavern, grabbing DT-227 as she passed the Deathtrooper.

"Come on!" She snapped, her voice rather shrill. DT-227 just shook his head, walking a little more carefully once he was free of her steel-like grip. Heavy Warrior pulled an unlit torch from his hip but was stopped by DT-227.

"Hold it," The trooper unhooked an attachable flashlight from his bandolier, attaching it to the end of his rifle. Soon, the cavern was bathed in bright, artificial light. The cavern was narrow and bathed in dried blood, likely from earlier catches.

"Your tools continue to astound me, Deathtrooper." Heavy Warrior complimented, DT-227 shaking his head in amusement.

"It's a wonder, Heavy Warrior, that walking and talking at the same time doesn't astound you," DT-227 said with a deadpan, earning a snicker from Female Knight.

"That hurts, Deathtrooper," Heavy Warrior pounded his chest with one hand, an expression of hurt appearing on his face, "Right here."

DT-227 rolled his eyes before indicating forwards.

"Female Knight, take point? I'd rather have a shield between my blaster and a 'werewolf'."

"Oh, yeah, that's nice. Use _me_ as a body shield."

"I meant your literal-"

"Yeah, yeah," The woman winked at him, raising her shield and moving a few feet ahead of Heavy Warrior and DT-227. Both men shared a chuckle before moving forwards, eyes open for any danger.

As luck would have it, the cavern was straight forward with no sudden dips or inclines, a rather common scheme now that DT-227 thought about it. These 'natural' caverns always have just enough room for a person or several people to fit comfortably in.

"What did you mean?" Heavy Warrior asked with a whisper, one eye on Female Knight's back as they continued to advance into the cavern.

"How's that?" DT-227 asked, turning his head to look at the other man.

"What did you mean by us 'getting a room'?" The man repeated, looking a tad bit exasperated.

"Oh-" DT-227 started, but Female Knight had another idea.

"Don't answer that." The duo looked at her back, Female Knight hadn't turned around to speak, before looking at one another again.

"Sorry, boss, but she scared me a hell of a lot more than you do." Heavy Warrior raised an eyebrow.

"That's pretty rich coming from you, given how you dress, fight, and act," He seemed to think for a few moments, "Also, you're more scared of her?! I'm twice her size and am a mountain of muscle! She's a cake close to being- Ow." A pebble hit his forehead, bouncing noisily into the darkness behind him and DT-227. They both looked over at Female Knight, who was slightly flushed with her eyes narrowed.

"I'll have you know I'm _far_ from overweight…" She began a long-winded rant, completely oblivious to the looks of amusement from the two men of the party. Their looks of amusement slowly changed to horror.

Behind Female Knight, a pair of glinting, red eyes appeared in the darkness. Slowly, the figure appeared in the light provided by DT-227's flashlight, towering over them all. Even hunched, its head scraped along the ceiling of the cavern. It's lupine features, poorly melded with human, have it a very intimidating visage.

Female Knight finally noted the horrified look on Heavy Warrior's face, realization driving her to twist. Just in time, too, as the monster leaped into action. Its jaw snapped uselessly against her metal shield, both claws nearly throwing her to the ground.

Female Knight wasn't forced to fight off the monster for long, a trio of crimson flashes from DT-227's blaster sent to werewolf stumbling. It howled in agony, patches of its grey fur burnt away from the blaster bolts.

Female Knight moved her shield aside, a scowl on her face as she tried to impale the werewolf through the chest with her sword. Alas, the monster easily batted her away. Instead of finishing the young woman off, it looked up at DT-227, pure, unadulterated rage in those red depths.

"Shit." Was all DT-227 said before following up his initial barrage with another hail of bolts. Not one of them landed, not from a lack of accuracy on DT-227's part, mind. No, that was how fast the werewolf was. It closed the distance obscenely fast. Heavy Warrior, bless him, tried his damndest to slow it. His massive sword swung at decapitation height, but the wolf merely knocked him aside, its eyes for DT-227 only. DT-227, making a split-second choice, threw his blaster aside. The night vision came to life, now only he and, likely, the werewolf able to see. He prepared himself for its charge, digging his feet into the stone floor.

The werewolf did not disappoint, basically tackling DT-227. The man stumbled a few paces back before he found his footing again. The werewolf managed to push him another two meters, all while slobbering over his armor in an attempt to bite through it.

Two meters and it was two meters too many. Now, DT-227 was pissed. Pissed he had been caught off guard, pissed he hadn't taken the necessary precautions in hostile territory, and now pissed because he would have to painstakingly clear all this mess from his armor.

DT-227 growled in anger, pushing back and actually regaining growl much to the shock of the werewolf. With a great effort, he threw it into one of the walls, the monster crashing to the ground. It didn't give up, roaring with pure fury and charging at DT-227 once again. He was ready this time, ducking beneath its outstretched claw. His own fist flew out at faster-than-sound speeds, smashing into its throat. Its roar changed to a breathless gasp, one paw shooting for its neck in a very human fashion. Not that DT-227 much cared, following up with his other fist slamming into the werewolf's gut. It bent over, gasping for breath as DT-227 wrapped his arm around its neck. Now at his mercy, DT-227 delivered two swift knees to its chest before throwing it into the opposite wall. It managed to catch its breath, glaring up at DT-227 with some much malice that if looks could kill…

Well, even then it was damned hard to kill a Deathtrooper.

It launched another attack, slashing with its right claw. DT-227 stepped back, the claw slashing through empty air. DT-227 grabbed the wrist of the paw, his left fist not hitting its now exposed head or neck, but instead landing on its elbow.

 _ **CRUNCH!**_

It howled in pure agony as its right arm fell limply to its side.

"D-Deathtrooper, what was that?" Female Knight asked from where she was inching towards the light, evidently wondering if the only one that was currently able to fight the werewolf was still alive.

"Alive." He growled back, his voice sounding inhuman as he kicked the werewolf back into the wall. The following attacks were nothing short of brutal, a flurry of punches and kicks ensuring the wolf couldn't even defend itself. It fell to the ground, not that DT-227 slowed down his assault.

Finally, Heavy Warrior managed to ignite his torch, abandoning the prospect of reaching the discarded blaster. What they found was, evidently, surprising to them, if Female Knight's swear was anything to go by.

"Feels good to finally let loose like that," DT-227 commented like he was talking about the weather, stepping back from the whimpering werewolf. The duo looked from him to the werewolf and back again.

"Remind me to never spar with you when you're 'letting loose'." Female Knight commented lightly, Heavy Warrior nodding in agreement, clearly impressed. That was when the werewolf, to DT-227's surprise, suddenly shifted from werewolf to human. A scrawny, naked man sat before the trio, though neither Female Knight nor Heavy Warrior seemed much surprised.

"P-Please, don't kill me!" Pleaded the man, putting his remaining arm to protect himself. He looked as if a wild animal had gotten to him, brutalized as he was.

"What in the name of the maker?!" DT-227 demanded, looking from the unsurprised duo to the cowering man. Heavy Warrior looked over, looking confused before sighing and shaking his head.

"I forget how little you know about the beasties around here, what do you even have back where you're from?"

"Remind me to tell you about Rancors, now, transforming man?"

"Right, well, he's a werewolf. Typically, a human who has been infected by another werewolf via bites. They can change on will, though they are pressured by some sort of bloodlust…" DT-227 froze at the man's words.

They transform into a monster at will, and are pressured by an unknown, unseen force?

"Can they fight the 'bloodlust'?"

"Yeah?"

And they can fight it. Memories of his arrival here, of nearly killing Governess, of becoming something more than a weapon for the Empire. He looked back to the sniveling, shaking…

 _Coward_ before him. Would DT-227 have been something like this if whatever conditioning they gave him hadn't broken? Err… Not the sniveling coward part, the blood-lusted monster. He could and would have destroyed everything in his path, all to weaken some nonexistent enemy.

He would be worse than the goblins.

DT-227 narrowed his eyes at the man, anger rising. Rising at this man- no, monster's cowardice. It didn't choose to be a monster, but it could have fought the urges.

It could have been better.

"... Back in Frontier Town, if I remember… What are you-" Heavy Warrior had still been speaking when DT-227 darted forwards. He snatched the sword from Female Knight's hand, much to her surprise, and rose it high above his head, towering over the werewolf.

"No-" The monster tried, but it was cut short.

DT-227 stood over its now bloodied corpse in silence for a moment or two.

"Pathetic."

* * *

\

 **A/N:**

 **Sorry about the delay on this chapter! I promise the next one will {might} be out sooner!**

 **I felt I owed it to my diligent readers to pump out a chapter a little early to give you lot something for waiting so patiently (over a month, oof).**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: I own neither Star Wars nor Goblin Slayer, but if I did I would rewrite Anakin Skywalker in the Prequel trilogy to have an ounce of charisma.**

* * *

 **Deathtrooper**

 **Chapter 11**

 **Interlude (Deathtrooper/DT-227)**

* * *

It took a substantial amount of time to properly skin the many wolves left from their earlier fight. As well as sifting through the dead bodies in the very back of the cave to ensure everyone was accounted for. DT-227 didn't know if he should be worried or saddened by the fact that some remains weren't left behind.

What remained of the bodies, both enemy and victim were burned in a large pile to ensure that no nefarious monsters were attracted by the smell of rot and blood.

Eventually, though, the group had collected their quarry and began the long trek back to Frontier Town. It was silent, and in any other situation DT-227 would welcome it, but given his present company, it was unsettling. Female Knight was something of a chatterbox and it never took much for Heavy Warrior to get him talking.

Now, the former was up a little way to the front, pointedly not looking at either of them while Heavy Warrior walked a few paces behind DT-227. He seemed worried if the concern on his face was anything to go by. DT-227 didn't ask what the issue was, deciding that, sooner or later, it would simply resolve itself.

His patience did not disappoint.

The group set up camp, thankfully setting down their heavy load of direwolf pelts. They gathered around their fire, merely basking in the warm glow as the sun vanished over the horizon. Female Knight's irritation was bubbling near the surface, but she was doing a surprisingly effective job at keeping it down. DT-227 knew she wanted to say something, though he couldn't for the life of him figure out why.

"Why did you kill him?" Female Knight asked quietly, not looking up from the fire. DT-227 looked at her, his helmet deposited off to one side. His hair, clean unlike the others', fell in front of his eyes. With an irritable huff, he batted it aside and, once again, told himself he needed to get it cut.

"Who?" He asked, though the man was fairly sure to whom she was referring.

"The werewolf," Female Knight bit out, whatever resistance keeping her from snapping earlier starting to crumble. DT-227 didn't respond at first, content to drink from his flask for a moment.

"Because that beast deserved it." He responded finally, his voice calm yet forceful. He would debate semantics with Female Knight, nor would he justify his actions to her.

"That 'beast' was a human!" A pity Female Knight couldn't take a hint. DT-227 sighed, leaning back and looking over at her furious face.

"A human does not senselessly kill and feast on other humans, Female Knight." DT-227 explained, trying his damnedest to keep his condescension down, "A human does not lead a pack of wolves to do the same, a monster does."

"He had no control of his actions!" Female Knight snapped, hitting a sore point for DT-227. His calm demeanor shifted then, calm replaced by DT-227's own growing anger.

"No, it had control, it lacked the willpower or the fortitude to resist the hunger. Incompetence and impotence are not justifications to commit unspeakable acts." DT-227 growled, his whole posture now tense. Female Knight was on her feet in an instant, glaring down at him.

"So that justifies murdering him?!" Female Knight demanded, gesturing angrily with her hands.

"What would you have had me do? Allow it to live? Allow it to come with us so it could us all in the night?"

"You don't know that!" DT-227 was on his feet now, their startling difference in size doing nothing to dissuade the young swordswoman.

"I do because that's what I…" He stopped himself short, gritting his teeth as he nearly admitted something he refused to acknowledge. The thought had lingered in DT-227's mind, the thought that he could have and would have become some sort of murderous weapon. DT-227 didn't like to admit it, but sometimes he still acted and fought like that weapon. There was no style, no life to how he fought. Just cool, machine-like efficiency that spoke more about his past than what he was not as a person.

"Forget it," DT-227 growled, getting up, and grabbing his helmet. He slipped it on, avoiding the confused and furious gaze of Female Knight.

"I'm going to patrol around and take the first watch, get some sleep," He spoke more to Heavy Warrior than Female Knight, trying to control his own bubbling rage. The man, clearly not used to dealing with confrontations like this, merely nodded in response. DT-227 left the clearing, the heated stares of his company burning into his back.

DT-227 spent the time setting up his usual sensors wondering, absently, why he spent so much time around Female Knight and Heavy Warrior. He had, originally, requested their help to train him with his sword, but the duo had stopped taking his money after a while. They had, instead, dragged him along on some adventures or to drink at the Guild, acting as if they were… _friends_.

It was a foreign word to DT-227, one he used to describe only Governess, perhaps. Female Knight and Heavy Warrior had inserted themselves into his life, however. Yet, for one reason or another, he didn't hold that against them.

Their argument aside, DT-227 usually got on pretty well with Female Knight, as well as Heavy Warrior. Both were skilled and strong, with quick wits and sharp tongues. In a way, they were what DT-227 strived to be now that he was free of the Empire's influence. The two of them, while skilled and serious when matters called for it, were generally laid back and laissez-faire. Both knew the dangers of their job, yet constantly joked about nearly dying from one thing or another.

DT-227 was getting better, but he knew he tended to be robotic in places. In a way, he still was like that werewolf. It had been the victim of some monster's choices and lacked the means to escape the nebulous black hole left by their actions.

Not that he pitied the monster.

* * *

The now more disjointed group picked up in the morning. Evidently, Heavy Warrior and Female Knight had a sort of argument of their own, as both seemed to use DT-227 as a buffer between them. It was tense, as if at the drop of a hat the three of them may start killing each other. DT-227 felt guilty, this rift being, for the most part, his fault. Naturally, it was his stubborn Imperial pride that ensured he would never admit as much, but the thought lingered deep in his thoughts.

Eventually, they stopped for a late lunch, all of them seemed to want to get home as soon as possible.

It was there that Heavy Warrior got his most brilliant, or perhaps most terrible, idea to date.

"Okay, it's clear we need to discuss this tension between the three of us," He announced rising and beaming down at the other two. Heavy Warrior's smile became a little more forced when both of them merely muttered, refusing to look at the other. He stemmed his fists into his hips, an evil glint appearing in his eyes.

"The best way to find kinship once again? Beating the absolute shit out of each other."

"Doth your eloquence know no bounds, Heavy Warrior?" Asked Female Knight sarcastically, her eyebrow raised.

"You say that now but who will be laughing when you two start brawling? Me, that's who!"

* * *

Somehow, DT-227 found himself facing Female Knight, both of them stripped of their armor and standing with but a few meters between them.

Female Knight was dressed in a tunic and loose-fitting pants, certainly a stylistic step down from her over the top armor. DT-227 was wearing merely his under-armor mesh, which did little to protect him from physical blows.

"Okay, try and refrain from any permanent damage and killing one another. Any questions?" Female Knight put her hand up. At Heavy Warrior's nod, she asked her question.

"Does a coma count as 'permanent damage'?"

"If you have to ask, then yes." Female Knight pouted for a second as Heavy Warrior backed up to what he believed to be a safe distance. After a pregnant moment of pause, the man clapped.

"Go!"

To her credit, Female Knight was fast. Perhaps it was her constantly wearing that heavy armor that made her so agile without it? Regardless of why DT-227 had little time to prepare a defense.

He took the knee the crashed into his side with little more than a wince, instead placing his right leg behind her. Right his right hand, the DT-227 tripped the woman and threw her to the ground. She fell, hard, and was pinned by DT-227, who still had his hand on her chest.

His left hand reeled back, forming into a fist before crashing down like a meteor. Just his luck, Female Knight's tunic was loose enough for her to slide down a few inches. DT-227's fist collided into the ground.

 _WHAM!_

"Shit!" He swore, his hand now throbbing with pain. He reeled back, unintentionally letting Female Knight go to cradle his now injured hand. Female Knight took the moment to escape his hold. She wrapped her arms around his right leg, the one supporting most of DT-227's weight. Rolling right, he lost his balance and, suddenly, the roles were reversed.

Female Knight was now on top of him, between his legs, no that isn't a euphemism. A slightly sadistic gleam appearing in her eyes, she threw a flurry of punches at DT-227. The first few hits were diverted, but DT-227 was in no position to completely defend himself. He changed tactics for a moment, deflecting the stronger hits and taking the weakest. The moment her onslaught slowed, DT-227 turned the tables once again.

Her next punch was caught by DT-227. He pulled Female Knight to one side, wrapping his legs around her waist and rolling her onto her back. He straddled the woman, pinning her hand over her head. Her other hand joined the first, leaving the woman writhing pitifully beneath DT-227's weight.

"Give up?" Gasped DT-227, a grin plastered on his face.

"Never!" Cried Female Knight, redoubling her writhing. A pity for her, there wasn't a chance she would be able to throw DT-227 off without the help of her arms, "Okay, maybe."

DT-227 got up, offering his hand and helping the woman to her feet. He felt better, maybe Heavy Warrior had a point. DT-227 turned to tell the man as much, but the shock reflected in Heavy Warrior's eyes gave DT-227 a warning that he had been deceived.

Before he had a chance to turn, a pair of feet collided into his back with the force of a speeder bike driving full speed. DT-227 was unable to catch himself in time, landing face first into the dirt with something weighing him down from behind.

"What the hell," He growled around the mouthful of sand, "I thought you gave up!"

"I said 'maybe'!" Announced Female Knight proudly from her perch on his back.

"You bitch," Growled DT-227, managing to get one knee up. Before Female Knight could do much else, DT-227 planted his hands into the dirt and pushed into a rather pathetic push-up.

As skilled as Female Knight was in combat, she was still a petite, young woman. DT-227's time with the Empire saw him sparring with men three times her physical size. As Female Knight stumbled, evidently not expecting him to so easily throw her weight around. A foolish notion, given that he had, less than two days ago, beat a werewolf into submission with his bare hands…

Okay, plasteel coated hands.

Apparently, that was an impressive feat for someone who hadn't even heard of the beasts until that day.

DT-227 forced himself back to the present, rolling to one side and effectively throwing Female Knight off of him. She gave a small shriek, falling face first into the dirt as DT-227 managed to get to his feet.

Female Knight tried to get up, but DT-227 dove across her back, forcing her down once more. Unlike her, DT-227 weighed quite a lot, even without his armor. She struggled, but this time there would be no escape. DT-227 put his arm around her neck, giving a slight tug.

"Give up now?"

"Never!" Knowing this song and dance, DT-227 tightened his hold, making her breath come out short and quick, "... Okay, maybe!" He tightened further.

"Okay, okay! I give up!" She choked out, struggling beneath his weight. DT-227 smiled, releasing her and rising. As he helped Female Knight to her feet, Heavy Warrior spoke from the sidelines.

"See? Bonding over fighting always works!" He announced with his fists stemmed into his hips and his eyes closed.

"You know what helps better than that?" Asked Female Knight, still slightly short of breath.

"Hmm?" Heavy Warrior opened his eyes, horror dawning in his eyes as both Female Knight and DT-227 rushed him.

"Teamwork." She finished.

* * *

DT-227 and Female Knight sat back-to-back, panting and clearly exhausted, but pleased with themselves. They sat in silence, merely staring off in their respective directions for a little. Finally, DT-227 rose his fist, speaking.

"So, are we good now?" Female Knight sighed but bumped his first with the back of her own.

"You're still an ass, but I'm not going to lose any sleep over a werewolf."

"Ouch." DT-227 put on a voice of mock hurt before adjusting himself on the seat they were sharing.

"Great, now that you two have made up, can you get off?!" That seat happened to be a rather beaten and battered Heavy Warrior, who was lying face down in the dirt.

"I don't know, I'm not feeling particularly merciful." Female Knight commented, rubbing her nails on the front of her dirtied tunic before looking at them, "What about you, DT?"

DT-227 sighed, putting his hands behind his head and leaning back more into Female Knight.

"I'm pretty comfortable, I must say." Female Knight, now beaming, pat Heavy Warrior's head.

"Sorry, love, but you're stuck for now."

The usually big and intimidating man whimpered rather pathetically.

* * *

Things were pretty amicable after the fight, the trio deciding the make camp there for the night and nurse their bruises before setting out at first light. They talked, joked, and laughed all the way to town, eventually arriving at the Guild after what felt like an extended absence.

As usual, the inside was bustling with activity and people. Cheers sounded at the trio entered, to which the offered their own salutes and waves. Led by DT-227, the group approached the smiling form of Governess, who looked pleased with his return. Of course, her words did little to compound that belief, but everyone had their own way of showing joy.

"You're back, here you had me worrying that you had died," She said with a forlorn shake of her head and a tut. DT-227 grinned from beneath his helmet, leaning on the counter as best he could, given the weight of the wolf pelts on his back.

"I know, it must pain you to see me alive and walking once again," DT-227 responded, the decidedly neutral tone he was taking mixed with a healthy amount of mirth.

"What, lose my favorite subject of mockery?" Governess reeled, a hand going over a heart as she looked horrified at the insinuation. During the course of the conversation, Female Knight approached and handed over the contract. It was relatively clean, surprising given Female Knight's usual scatterbrainedness. Governess accepted it, putting the contract aside and, from beneath the desk, pulling out a sack of coins.

"I forgot how much love there was here. Female Knight and Heavy Warrior were just too likable and kind, it felt wrong." Responded DT-227 with his own pithy remark. He accepted the payment from Female Knight while still talking.

"We're getting a drink, join us?" The woman in question asked pocketing what was left. The three of them were still filthy, coated in blood and sweat from the past few days of walking and fighting, and DT-227 would kill for a drink by this point, but…

"In a minute," He said, pointing up a finger. Female Knight shrugged before nodding Heavy Warrior towards the bar, likely about to get shit faced drunk. Despite how much the woman drank, she couldn't hold her alcohol worth a shit.

"Did I miss much?" DT-227 asked upon turning back towards Governess, knowing full well his rather conversational tone clashed with the voice-distorting feature on his helmet. Governess cocked her head side to side before responding.

"Not much, it's been pretty boring and quiet without you." DT-227 was touched, so much so that he responded with another sarcastic jab.

"Oh, did you miss me?"

"Much in the same way one misses a fungus." Scoffed Governess, her arms crossed as she stared up at the face of DT-227's helmet.

"You wound me." He said theatrically, a hand over his chest. Governess merely rolled her eyes, picking up the contract she had set aside earlier.

"Get, go to your drinking buddies, I need to sort this away." Governess ordered, waving him away whilst brandishing the contract. DT-227 smirked beneath his helmet but responded via putting a thumb up and walking away. The collection of people who had taken to staring at him quickly looked away, finding something rather interested with nearby tables, chairs, and walls.

DT-227 didn't much mind them, finding his duo of comrades at the bar, already drinking. They had deposited their pelts on the counter, much to the clear distress of the bartender herself, not that she could do much about it.

Female Knight was already a bottle down, making DT-227 wonder if she, perhaps, had a drinking problem.

"What are we drinking to?" DT-227 asked, waving the bartender over and just pointing to what they were having. The woman gave a quick nod, horror displayed on her face as DT-227 also deposited his bloody pelts and furs on her counter.

"To DT," Female Knight decided, raising her glass, "For beating a werewolf into with his fists and fists alone!"

Her announcement brought about silence to the entire bar area, all eyes searching out DT-227. The man sat silently, feeling rather awkward under the searching stares of his fellow adventurers. Though it didn't look it, the armor probably made it seem as if he were ignoring them all.

"You expect us to believe that?" Drawled one naysayer off to the far side of the bar, a sneer set into his face. Heavy Warrior cracked a grin, leaning back in his seat. He called over to the man without even turning around to face him.

"Believe it. I didn't see the fight, but I certainly saw the aftermath. DT here is the closest a knight can get to a monk."

"Sure," Scoffed the man, to the nervous chuckles of his friends. That was when DT-227 rose to his feet, turning to face the man.

"You want a demonstration?" The man growled from behind his helmet, his voice sounding animalistic with the distorter in effect. The naysayer quickly realized who it was he had insulted, the _Demon Slayer_. DT-227 was of two minds on his nickname, but it had its uses.

"D-Demon Slayer! I-I didn't realize!" The man's voice grew high and wavering, panic clear on his face as he met the faceless mask of DT-227's helmet. DT-227 just scoffed and retook his seat, opening a small port on his helmet to drink. Chatter slowly revived, though many people seemed to explain to newcomers and the uninformed who he was and what he had, allegedly, done.

"You fought a werewolf?" A young voice came from DT-227's right. The Deathtrooper looked over to the speaker, a young man perhaps sixteen, maybe younger. DT-227 chuckled, swirling his drink.

"I got lucky, it didn't expect me to see it in the dark," The young man's eyes became as big as saucers, reverence in their depths. He turned and spoke to the girl on _his_ right as DT-227 returned to his drink.

"You're going to start gathering groupies if you aren't careful, DT." Female Knight ribbed, leaning back into her seat as Heavy Warrior spoke animatedly with a spear-wielding man with, perhaps, the worst hair DT-227 had ever seen.

"Maybe I should get almost killed again, that'll throw them off."

"Hardly, they'd probably just think you're a demigod who's unkillable."

"Damn…" DT-227 turned and looked out over the crowd, more of them than he had hoped were looking at DT-227with the same reverence displayed by the boy to his right. Deciding it was best to leave, DT-227 paid his tab and made to beat a heated retreat

"Oh, DT! Don't leave!" Female Knight pleaded, pulling on his arm. DT-227 smiled under his helmet as he, with his free arm, hoisted the furs up.

"Love to, but I'd rather not have my armor stink like death and rot for the next few months."

"Pansy…" She muttered before returning to her drink, allowing DT-227 to slip through the crowd, mostly, unhindered. He headed towards the entrance when he noticed Governess, Goblin Slayer, Priestess, and Guild Girl all talking at the desk, much to the annoyance of a few other nearby adventurers. Deciding his intervention might be needed, DT-227 swooped in.

"You know, DT, I hear cleaning does wonders for one's complexion." Governess said the moment she noticed DT-227 approaching, her nose scrunching up ever so slightly at the caked blood and guts. DT-227 rubbed at one patch, feeling a little self-conscious.

"I was intending to do that, just need to drop these direwolf pelts off," DT-227 explained, calm as ever as he shifted the pelts on his shoulder. They were starting to feel heavy, after all, even Deathtroopers have their limits.

Perhaps putting some money aside for a horse wouldn't be all that bad…?

DT-227 turned, getting Goblin Slayer's attention and completely blindsiding Guild Girl. He purposely ignored the muttering that came from under the woman's breath.

"Just got back from goblin hunting, I assume?" DT-227 asked, expecting some short answer that did little to truly explain what the man was feeling or thinking.

"Yes," Goblin Slayer did not disappoint. A smile grin spread across DT-227's face as he noted the contract in Goblin Slayer's hand.

"Huh… Going out again immediately?"

"Yes," DT-227 nodded slowly in response, the man's short, concise answers to everything rather endearing to the soldier. A look of realization spread across Priestess's face before excitement quickly took its place. She turned to DT-227, a soft smile and hopeful expression in her eyes.

"Oh! Sir Deathtrooper, you should come with us!" DT-227 raised an eyebrow, rather amused with the uncharacteristic forwardness of the young woman. She had come quite a ways from the young woman DT-227 had first met, terrified of some much as speaking to him. She had likely learned to not fear him as much given that DT-227 let Governess verbally abuse him. Then again, the man had made several violent spectacles of goblins, so some fear might be in order…

Numerous days were spent in that dungeon, even he got bored of the same old, safe way of killing goblins.

"Sure, but why?" Not to say that DT-227 didn't want to go, though the pay was terrible, but these two had proven they could more than handle goblins and the like.

"The next place we're going is an old fortress, I figured someone of your expertise would do well there!" Priestess explained excitedly, her usually calm, sweet voice coming out more like a squeak than regular human speech.

"Which expertise?" DT-227 asked with a hint of amusement in his tone. He was, after all, a man of many skills. Humility, it also seemed, had been lost somewhere along the way.

"I think," Governess responded in Priestess's stead, "She is referring to your ability to cause large explosions and obscene amounts of damage."

"Ah," DT responded, looking back to Priestess, "Very well, it will be my honor… Going that Goblin Slayer accepts my help."

Priestess looked as if she wished to refute Governess's earlier statement about DT-227's skills and what they needed him for, insinuating that someone was an arsonist or anarchist of sorts was out of character for her, after all. Her complaints were, however, cut across by Goblin Slayer, responding in his usual short fashion

"Okay." DT-227 cracked a smile but responded with a near identical, emotionless tone of voice.

"Okay, I'll be back soon, I need to sell these and clean up," DT-227 announced, shifting the pelts atop his shoulder before leaving the group to their gossip. Or, perhaps a little more poignant, the girls, their gossip, and Goblin Slayer just kind of standing there.

* * *

It was a quick affair, DT-227 seeing to it his pelts were sold quickly, efficiently, and for enough to keep himself, Governess, and Governess's spending habits afloat. The owner had tried, initially, to swindle DT-227, but the Deathtrooper had picked up a few tricks over the months of being here how to counter these sorts of people.

He cooly stared at the man without a word, and the man eventually folded and gave DT-227 a decent sum.

That out of the way, and the speedy affair of clean his armor done, DT-227 linked up with his two newfound party members. Priestess, who was hugging to her chest a quiver full of arrows and what looked to be… cloth? She seemed pleased enough, especially as DT-227 approached.

"Ready?" Goblin Slayer asked simply, turning to face DT-227.

"As I'll ever be," The soldier responded with a similar tone, nodding to Priestess as he spoke. The young woman tried to wave, nearly dropped the arrows. She was forced to adjust herself lest the arrows fell and made an inconvenient mess. DT-227 cracked a wry grin at the young woman's antics, wordlessly taking the quiver from her and slinging it over his own back, next to his blaster rifle.

As she exclaimed her thanks, the trio set out.

The walk was silent at first, Goblin Slayer leading the company with Priestess and DT-227 a few paces behind. Priestess, though usually shy and reserved, seemed rather happy and in good spirits. It was a bizarre shift, but DT-227 wasn't one to question another person's motives.

Finally, DT-227 broke the silence.

"What can you tell me about this fortress and its occupants?" He asked, directing the question at Priestess but ensuring he spoke loudly and clearly enough for Goblin Slayer to hear. Priestess looked thoughtful for a moment or two but was spared having to formulate an answer by the gruff, flat tone of Goblin Slayer.

"It has one known entrance with ramparts, several levels, and a dungeon. Three adventurer teams have attempted to assault it from the front, all have failed. The goblins have been harassing local towns for weeks now. A direct attack is impossible." Cold, direct, and no preamble, DT-227 felt his respect for Goblin Slayer only rise. The man would have made a good Deathtrooper… going that one could get past the manipulation and kidnapping aspect.

"Assuming the goblins didn't make a secondary entrance?" DT-227 asked, his own tone subconsciously changing to the emotionless mask he displayed come to combat. Goblin Slayer, without turning around, gave a brisk nod.

"They likely made several, though locating them will be difficult. I plan to burn them out," Goblin Slayer explained, indicating to the bow over his own shoulder.

"Burn them?" DT-227 repeated incredulously, wondering how the man intended to do that seeing as the goblins could just as easily escape via the massive front door, if not the dozen smaller ones.

"She can use one of her miracles to create a shield wall, trapping them in…"

"... Thus either killing the goblins or forcing them into their tunnels where we can finish them off. Clever." DT-227 finished, though still a little confused over what miracles exactly were. Sure, one had been used to save his life, but the man didn't like to have an unknown resource on any playing field that he knew nothing about.

"What are miracles?" He asked, his tone reverting back to the more conversational 'DT' version. The man scarcely noticed the difference, tough Priestess seemed to be relieved at the change. Priestess, upon realizing DT-227 was talking to _her_ , gave a little jump.

"Oh… er… Miracles are magic. Each mage, wizard, or priestess has a certain amount they can use per day." Priestess explained helpfully, though that did little help DT-227 ascertain what the limits were. Could they cause massive explosions, bring down starships, they already proved to be able to bring someone back from the jaws of death. The applications could be limitless.

"I meant: what miracles are there? What are they capable of? What's their limit? What can _you_ do?" Priestess blanched under the rapid-fire questions, faltering under the intense stare of DT-227. Well, she assumed it to be intense, his face and head were still hidden in the depths of his helmet. In actuality, DT-227's expression was one of pure curiosity. He wasn't much of a Deathtrooper, not everything needed to be utilized as a weapon… _yet._

"O-Oh… Uh… Well, there are tons of types of spells. From benign light magic to spells capable of causing great forest fires or explosions. There's a reason people, like Witch back at the Guild, speak slowly and pause at random intervals. Someone like her, who is immensely powerful in magic, have to be careful lest they say the proper combination of words to cause a disaster. All miracle users are limited by how many miracles they can use, I heard that Witch could use thirty, where I can use… only… t-three…" The young woman bowed her head and flushed with embarrassment, clearly put out over her perceived uselessness.

DT-227, in an increasingly common show of compassion, put a comforting hand on her shoulder. Priestess nearly collapsed in fright, but upon realizing that she wasn't in any danger, relaxed somewhat.

"I can only assume you will get better with age and experience, both of which you will earn around Goblin Slayer." DT-227 joked, gauging both Goblin Slayer's and Priestess's reactions. At Priestess's confused look, DT-227 explained.

"Experience, as you travel around and fight, you learn more. Age, all the greying you'll be having as you pick up the pieces to put Goblin Slayer back together, given how he fights." The jab at Goblin Slayer was not missed by Priestess who, upon realizing what DT-227 had meant, seemed to be horrified at the connotation. Clearly, no one much cracked jokes about Goblin Slayer in his presence, much preferring to mutter behind his back.

"Heh." Was all Goblin Slayer commented, neither turning nor doing anything more to acknowledge what DT-227 had said. This seemed to overload Priestess's mind, as her eyes grew as large as dinner plates. The way her head twitched when she looked from DT-227 to Goblin Slayer amused the former to no end.

DT-227 allowed her a few more minutes to try and comprehend the fact that Goblin Slayer could not only acknowledge jokes but did so _vocally_. Finally, he spoke again when Priestess's dinner-plate like eyes fell upon him again.

"You didn't answer my last question," DT-227 stated, seeming to snap Priestess from her reverie. The young woman gave her head a quick shake, looking slightly irritated as her golden hair became entangled in both the staff she was wielding and itself.

"What was your question again?" She asked absently, trying to pull her now ruined hair free of the staff's grasp. DT-227 cracked a slight grin but repeated it nonetheless.

"What miracles can _you_ use?" Priestess looked up at him for a second before setting back into the work of freeing her hair.

"Oh… er… I can… create a wall of light, summon a ball of light, and heal minor wounds."

The more tactical side of DT-227's mind quickly compartmentalized this information before sifting through it all to find combat uses. The ball was near useless to him, given that fact that the Deathtrooper had night vision built into his helmet and, if not that, then a flashlight on his rifle. The wall _could_ be useful, depending on how much punishment it could it take. How long would the wall fair under intensive small arms fire, or against laser cannons mounted on walkers, or turbolasers fired from a capital ship? The minor healing could be used by medics in the heat of battle, but it really depended on 'magic's' definition of minor. It might just be that bacta and bacta patches were the better product.

The more personal and compassionate side of DT-227's mind, which was rather new and still about as compassionate as a Rancor was huggable, merely smiled. The man gave Priestess's shoulder a squeeze before letting her go, leaving the young woman to the task of freeing her hair.

* * *

The company of three, far different from his last party, arrived at the fortress nightfall the following day. It was certainly a spectacle, raising the question as to why it had been abandoned by… whoever the ruling government was in the area. The only sign that there were any occupants in the building, aside from the sentries above, was the flickering of light within.

The building had to be five or six stories at least, though a large portion of it had clearly seen better days. Much of the outer wall had crumbled, offering little cover for the goblin centuries atop the stone structure. It would be a simple task, putting down the sentries before one could get out an alarm. There arose two problems, however, namely the fact that the bright red of the bolts would attract unwanted attention and this was Goblin Slayer's operation. The man had a plan, and DT-227 was not one to get in his comrade's way.

The trio stopped just inside the tree line, all studying the fortress at hand with varying degrees of scrutiny.

"The goblins could escape from there," DT-227 indicated to the most dilapidated part of the wall, where it stooped down nearly half the height of the building itself. Goblin Slayer followed the outstretched hand before giving his head a shake.

"Any survivors can be finished off." The man responded brusquely, earning a flinch from Priestess and a reproachful glare from DT-227.

"Perhaps the first few will be, but some may survive the fall unhurt or otherwise not affected."

"Then they will be finished off." Goblin Slayer repeated before pulling the bow from his back. DT-227 looked back at the last of their company, who had been silent during the exchange. Priestess was hard at work, wrapping arrows in close and what DT-227 assumed to be some sort of oil before sticking them into the ground.

For the first time in his career, DT-227 felt a twinge of fear. Not fear over the mission, mind, but over a… _separate_ subject.

"What about survivors?" DT-227 asked, looking away from Priestess and back to Goblin Slayer. The man seemed to stiffen, as if the idea had either not occurred to him or he had hoped nobody would bring it up.

DT-227, nor his now former kin, was ever one too much care about civilian casualties. It was, after all, not their mission to care about collateral damage. That was the old DT-227, however, and now he felt a twinge of guilt and fear that there may be someone still alive among the goblins.

"Survivors?" Priestess repeated with realization dawning in her voice. DT-227 looked back at her, noting the expression of panic and fear dawning on Priestess's face.

"Survivors, or prisoners. I doubt the goblins killed them all." DT-227 explained, turning once again to Goblin Slayer, who had yet to move from his position. A few pregnant moments passed, Priestess's hurried and panicked breaths the only sound in the dead of night. Goblin Slayer must have been thinking, as he finally turned and studied DT-227 from behind his helmet.

"If there are, we won't be able to save them. A frontal assault is impossible, as well as sneaking in-"

"So you were going to _burn them_?!" Priestess demanded, anger beginning to take hold in her increasingly shrill voice. Goblin Slayer was about to speak when DT-227 cut him off by rising.

"It's a good thing you brought me along, then. Don't move."

"Sir Deathtrooper-" Priestess started, realizing what DT-227 was implying he was going to do. Goblin Slayer also rose but seemed to think better of it. As good at fighting as the man was, he wasn't all that effective at subtlety.

DT-227 slipped into the shadows of the great fortress, leaving both Goblin Slayer and Priestess behind. Despite his size and weight, DT-227 seemed to glide silently as a leaf through the wind. He reached the wall, none of the goblin sentries any the wiser. With the manipulation of his wrist control, the green lights on his helmet dimmed and the grappling hook activated. Leveling his wrist and aiming at the ledge high above, DT-227 fired his hook. It whistled quietly up, catching on the edge of the deteriorating wall. Sending a silent prayer to whatever local or galactic god was listening that the bricks would support his weight, DT-227 rose quickly.

After a few moments, DT-227 reached his mark. Quiet as a womp rat, the man pulled himself up and onto the landing, rolling away from the edge before climbing to his feet. The nearest goblin was a few meters to his left, the right empty of any hostiles. Deciding on the path of least resistance, DT-227 slipped alongside the shadows in the direction of an opening in the wall.

Eventually, a doorway revealed itself to him, allowing DT-227 onto the opposite side of the catwalk. Far below, goblins danced about pyres of fire. Bodies littered the dirt ground, many still being defiled by goblins. On the pyres were, unless his eyes deceived him, humans or otherwise humanoid beings.

DT-227 pushed a button on his wrist, zooming his view in as to get better study the situation. There was upwards of fifty goblins present, more than he would be able to handle on his own even with the drop on the entirety of them.

It was then that the trooper spied someone, a survivor stuck off in one corner. It, or perhaps she, was a young woman secluded aside by herself, seemingly ignored by the goblins as a whole. She had filthy blonde hair with her knees tucked up to her face, clearly shaking as sobs wracked her dirtied form.

DT-227 deactivated the binocular function, deciding the path that held the highest chance of success. A few sentries over watched the festivities, clearly upset at the turn of events that led to them being placed on overwatch. DT-227 more than happily ensured that they wouldn't be missing the party below, nor much of anything else.

By utilizing his grappling hook as a garrote wire, DT-227 made short work of the four on the inner catwalk. Their bodies left on the catwalk itself albeit hidden from view best they could be, DT-227 reached the area of the ledge just above the young woman. In the time it had taken the Deathtrooper to reach the area, a goblin had begun harassing the woman.

DT-227 didn't spare a moment, using a specialization on his grappling hook to stick it into the catwalk. He lowered, quickly, by some miracle not being noticed by the goblins below. DT-227 lowered himself right behind the goblin, ignoring the pleas of the woman, who was cowering before the green monster.

Its sickening cackles were silenced by the snapping of its neck, the green beastie's head turned a full 180. The shock on its face would be the last expression the goblin would ever have. DT-227 wasted not a moment, gathering both the goblin and the screaming woman in his arms and rising back to the catwalk. Much to DT-227's relief, the woman managed to keep herself from screaming or otherwise being a nuisance.

He set her and the goblin aside, peering back down at the collection below. Much to his disgust, the goblins failed to notice either their missing comrade nor the prisoner.

DT-227 turned back to the woman, who was staring up at him with equal parts thankfulness and fear. Understandable, his present appearance was far from approachable.

DT-227 kicked the dead goblin further to the wall, hoping to keep it out of sight while speaking to the woman.

"Are there any other survivors?" He asked, attempting to keep his voice as calm and level as possible to ensure the scrambler nor distorter made him sound… _demonic_.

The woman, not speaking, gave a quick shake of her head.

"Are you sure?" He repeated, DT-227 wasn't going to leave anyone in this hell if he could do something about it. She nodded this time, speaking with a quiet, damaged voice.

"They took us all out of the dungeon." She murmured, averting her eyes from the visor of DT-227's helmet.

"I wish to check, where is the dungeon?" DT-227 asked, the young woman looking horrified at the prospect of him leaving her there. The man, rather exasperated by this turn of events but still understanding her strife, pulled his sword from its scabbard.

"Take this to protect yourself. I shouldn't be long, now, where is the dungeon?" The woman stared at the sword with equal parts shock and reverence before accepting it. It took a few moments for her mind to catch up, finally pushing the young woman to crawl over to the ledge. DT-227 kneeled at her side, taking in the macabre scene before him once again.

The woman, pointedly ignoring the events below, pointed out a half-collapsed doorway that seemed to lead underground. DT-227 nodded his thanks, sparing the woman naught but a glance as she quickly dragged herself back to the wall and curled up, making an effort to hide everything below from all her senses.

It was a pity that the smell of charred flesh and the howls of goblins could not be so easily ignored.

DT-227 quickly walked around the perimeter of the catwalk, reaching the area directly above the entrance to the bowls of the fortress. He freed the grappling hook from his wrist once more, rappelling down to the ground level. As to be expected, the goblins failed to notice him. The Deathtrooper didn't wait around to give them the chance, slinking away to the aforementioned entrance and slipping into the shadows.

It was far cooler and damp here, if DT-227's helmet readings were indeed correct, meaning the sensors were going to have one hell of a time trying to pick out goblins. Water always seemed to mess with the sensors, memories of Kashyyyk flooding back to DT-227.

He shuddered, bringing his mind back to the present. The path towards the dungeons was rather straight forwards, helped by the fact that every other hallway and door was collapsed in by fallen rubble. The cries of the goblins above became lost in the winding, seemingly endless hallway. So quiet it had become that even DT-227's light steps or soft breathing seemed to reverberate off the walls, echoing with increasing volume the further he went.

DT-227 knew better, of course, his helmet had a system in place to amplify sound, but that thought did little to alleviate his paranoia.

The man reached what seemed to be the end of the twisting hallway, a line of cells before him. As the woman had said, they were all empty. DT-227 sighed, not knowing what he had expected from coming down this far when the woman had already-

A low growl was the only warning DT-227 got before a hefty object made of what seemed to be equal parts wood and metal slammed into his side. The man cursed, bracing himself as he slammed into the stone wall to his left. DT-227 fell to the ground, disorientated but still able to clearly make out his assailant.

A goblin, though it was not of the usual breed. This goblin was several times not just the height of a normal or hobgoblin, but DT-227 himself. It was not obese nor scrawny like its kin, this beast was built much like a tank, bulging muscles rippling with barely restrained strength. It leered down at DT-227, a club the side of a Rancor's leg gripped tightly in one toned hand. The other held an equally large sword, held aloft at one side. Its eyes, glowing with both amusement and malice, seemed to hold a modicum of intelligence in their depths, though that was overpowered by the anger.

It was dressed in ill-fitted armor that seemed more for show, given that much of it failed to cover the goblin.

Its name came to DT-227 as he remembered it vaguely. He had heard of this sort before, he had just never seen one. This was a Goblin Champion, the second most powerful goblin subtype. They were infamous for giving even silver ranked adventurers, like Goblin Slayer, a good and proper thrashing. DT-227 swore, of course, he had somehow missed the massive beastie. Had it been in a cell-

DT-227 rolled to one side, barely managing to avoid the club that aimed to turn his chest into a pancake. The soldier was on his feet in a moment, avoiding a clumsy swing of the oversized sword. The sword, being much longer than the club, slammed noisily into the wall, catching for a moment. The Goblin Champion roared its annoyance, managing to pull the sword free. Alas, it failed to notice DT-227 closing the distance.

The man, using acrobatics that should have been impossible for someone of his size, jumped and landed on the knee of the Goblin Champion. Using that as a stable object to jump from, he leaped again towards its head. A knee collided with its already crooked nose, earning a howl of agony as DT-227 flew behind it. He twisted in mid-air, rifle raised and aimed at its back.

The gun roared to life, spitting forth a veritable cloud of bright red that would have turned even the most heavily armored of combatants in a pool of blood and ruined body parts. Alas, the emphasis was on 'world have', had the Goblin Champion not apparently held a natural resistance to the blaster cannon.

DT-227 landed on his back, cannon still raised in shock as the goblin twisted. The unintentional tears rolling down its ugly face had mixed together with the blood that came from its shattered nose, but this didn't little to distract from the sheer, unending rage deep in those beady eyes.

DT-227 rolled to his right, avoiding the crushing descent of a club that he now suspected was the remnants of a battering ram of sorts. This roll allowed the man a moment to get back to his feet, jumping backward out of instinct. And thank the maker for those years of conditioning, as at nearly the same moment the elongated blade passed through where he had stood.

The Deathtrooper knew he needed to end this fight, lest the goblins above become wary of the roars and gunfire in the dungeon. DT-227 raced forwards, easily ducking beneath another desperate swing of the club. He leaped, not high like before but forwards, increasing his momentum. A leg shot out, its black boot colliding with the bent knee of the goblin.

Had a normal person tried such a ludicrous attack, they would have bounced off uselessly and been thoroughly crushed by the club current held in the goblin's hand. Sadly for the goblin, however, DT-227 was far from an average person. His damn near suicidal attack brought results, bending the powerful goblin's knee the opposite direction. It's howls of rage and agony barely registered for DT-227, who rolled backward to avoid the collapsing weight above.

He was on his feet in an instant, using its other undamaged knee as a jumping board. As he sailed, DT-227 pulled free a thermal detonator from the bandolier around his chest. The explosive gave a small, satisfying _ding_ as it came to life, though the warning sound of its imminent detonation was muffled somewhat when the ball was lodged into the mouth of the Goblin Champion. DT-227 flew past, landing in a roll, before ending with a near picturesque kneel. At that moment, the juicy core of the detonator… well, detonated. The warm viscera and bones pelted DT-227's armor uselessly, only registering on the sensors as little more than hail or rain.

DT-227 rose and turned, giving his handy work a once over.

"Waste of a bloody detonator," He muttered, wishing he hadn't left his sword behind. This whole operation turned out to be a bust as well as a waste of his already limited resources. DT-227 rose, slinging his messy rifle over his back and walking back the way he came, grumbling all the way.

The goblins, as it turned out, hadn't noticed a damned thing, so engrossed in their ritualistic partying as they were. DT-227, deciding that he didn't have the time nor the inclination to fight them all himself, rose back to the catwalk via grappling hook.

The woman was as he had left her, her knees tucked up to her face with the sword held tightly in one. She did light up at DT-227 return, though.

"Come on, we need to go," He stated immediately, picking up the woman with no warning. Her squeak and complaint were both ignored in favor of a hurried extraction. DT-227 near sprinted to the exit, rappelling down to the dirt on the other side of the wall, not once being spotted.

Priestess had finished her job of prepping the arrows, though she seemed decidedly subdued. Goblin Slayer, on the other hand, noticeably flinched at DT-227's arrival. If that was because of the man himself or the woman he was carrying, DT-227 wasn't exactly sure.

"Sir Deathtrooper!" Priestess announced, her voice hushed yet relieved at his arrival.

"There aren't any other survivors," DT-227 said in lieu of a greeting, "Now would be a good time for you to execute your plan."

Goblin Slayer responded with a nod as DT-227 set his passenger down, signaling to Priestess. Priestess, though looking decidedly put out with the typically silent man, rose and jogged to his side, a bundle of arrows in one hand and her staff in the other.

* * *

The plan, as to be expected, went perfectly. Priestess had created a shield, ensuring the goblins were incapable of escaping the fortress without throwing themselves to their deaths, as Goblin Slayer barraged the interior of arrows of flame. Within minutes, a great fire was roaring throughout the fortress, rendering any goblin lacking the courage or intelligence to escape to little more than ash.

Priestess was more than capable of holding the shield up for a long time, meaning DT-227 and Goblin Slayer were given a chance to clean up survivors. DT-227, relying on his usual sensor droid, led the charge around to the many surviving gangs of goblins. They were in small pockets, for the most part, few having the time or the presence of mind to escape while they had the chance.

The few that did either lacked the numbers or the stamina to put up much in terms of resistance.

The duo arrived at the last group, their leading hobgoblin dispatched from afar with DT-227's blaster rifle. With ease, they cleaved their way through the survivors.

"That's the last of them," DT-227 stated, pulling his sword free from the back of a now dead goblin, eyeing the blood and grime coating its gleaming blade with disgust. It was as sharp as the day he had gotten it, gleaming brilliantly despite the mess.

"Thank you," It was so out of nowhere that DT-227 didn't even comprehend something was said, still talking.

"We should get back- Wait, 'thank you'? What for?" DT-227 asked, turning to face the other man. Goblin Slayer was kicking over a goblin, not turning to face DT-227 as he continued to speak.

"For saving the woman. I… assumed there was a chance of survivors, but there was no way I would have been able to reach them. I… swore to kill all goblins, to ensure no one else went through what I had to. And even still, I've failed again." The man's hand tightened around his sword, his usually stoic voice breaking slightly. Whether he was talking to DT-227 or not beyond the former soldier. DT-227 felt rather awkward, not exactly knowing how to broach the topic and merely staring at the other man. Goblin Slayer wasn't supposed to be emotional, or feeling, or… _human._

In a way, the man was as close as a civilian could get to being a Deathtrooper. Lacking emotion, lacking mercy, for the mission always came first. A few months ago, DT-227 had been exactly like the face the man put forth for others.

"You're one man," DT-227 said, making Goblin Slayer jump as if he had just remembered he'd had an audience, "It's not your job to protect the world. Do what you can, but there is only so far you can go."

"What about you?" Goblin Slayer asked turning to face DT-227, his expression being unreadable from behind his helmet.

"Me?" DT-227 repeated before smirking, "I've got an advantage, I was taken as a child, altered physically, and trained from an early age by the most ruthless bastards in the g- on the continent. Even I know that I have limits, though. I can't save everyone, nor do I expect… or much desire, too. You've got people to protect, Goblin Slayer, like Priestess, focus on them and do what you can in between."

Goblin Slayer nodded slowly, seeming to turn DT-227's words over in his mind before looking up.

"We should probably get back," Goblin Slayer stated with his tone back to his usual deadpan, as if nothing had occurred.

DT-227 merely nodded in agreement.

* * *

In the day following the quartets return to Frontier Town saw DT-227 doing his usual sparring with Heavy Warrior and Female Knight.

He was facing the latter, instructing her on her form of movements. DT-227 himself was wearing his full set of armor bar the helmet, which lay discarded near the blaster he had brought with. A bruise on the side of his cheek, where Female Knight had landed a lucky hit, was the only sign the man carried that he had been fighting. Not even sweat deigned to visit his features.

Female Knight was the opposite story, looking rather harried over the last hour of DT-227 mercilessly pummeling her whilst offering solutions as to why she had failed to break his defenses. The difference in skill between the two of them was staggering, as well as weight and speed. As fast as Female Knight was, she didn't have the best Imperial cybernetics this side of Coruscant pounding through her body.

The woman had abandoned her armor for the loose tunic and trousers she had donned last they brawled. Her clothes were filthy now, however, covered in dirt and blood that had begun leaking down from her nose. Even the woman's pretty face was marred by where DT-227 had landed hits or she had fallen harder than she had intended.

Despite her wounds, Female Knight seemed undeterred. She had her fists raised and a glint in her eyes that, if DT-227 wasn't confident in his ability to ward her back, he would be terrified.

"Remember: be unorthodox," DT-227 explained, his own fists raised as he prepared for her renewed assault, "I'm bigger, stronger, and faster than you. Do something I don't expect."

Female Knight didn't respond verbally, merely giving a quick nod and launching herself at DT-227 like she had been fired from a cannon. DT-227 was disappointed, he had been expecting Female Knight to be better than aimlessly throwing herself at him.

DT-227 prepared to meet the woman fists blazing when another presence made itself known behind the Deathtrooper. Heavy Warrior, who DT-227 realized had moved from his position of watching the duo fight, was now behind the Deathtrooper. Before DT-227 could move, Heavy Warrior's arms wrapped around his midsection, pinning the former soldier's arms to his sides and leaving him exposed to the cackling Female Knights punch.

DT-227 did something rather unorthodox himself, becoming deadweight in Heavy Warrior's. Heavy Warrior, not expecting the sudden shift nor weight, struggled to keep DT-227 up. Alas, the Deathtrooper had dropped down just enough that Female Knight's punch sailed just over his head… and into Heavy Warrior's perfectly exposed face. Heavy Warrior recoiled, his grip further loosening on DT-227 as Female Knight began trying to apologize profusely. DT-227, kicking off the ground, tackled Female Knight to the ground. Her cry of shock sounded as DT-227 rolled and came back to his feet, fists raised and prepared for retribution.

Female Knight and Heavy Warrior did not disappoint.

* * *

"What happened to you?" Governess asked as DT-227 approached her table, an amused lilt to her voice. The cocky smirk on her lips certainly didn't make his aches feel any better

"Female Knight and Heavy Warrior decided to double team me," DT-227 muttered, a little put out as he gave his shoulder a painful roll.

"Who won?" Governess asked, supporting her head with one hand as she absently stirred the bowl of soup before her, clearly far more interested to hear about him being pummeled… or others, she was never one to be picky. DT-227 regarded with what he could only really call a cross between a scowl and a smirk.

"Female Knight's concussion tells me I win, but my bruises and battered limbs tell them they won, so it's up for debate," DT-227 joked, naturally exaggerating. Female Knight's skull was tough as durasteel, a blaster bolt to the head wouldn't be able to stop her. Governess, evidently sensing the sarcasm, rolled her eyes before setting back into him with a smirk.

"Maybe I can act as referee next time?" She asked as DT-227 spotted the approaching waitress. He waved her away, scoffing at the young woman's question, regarding her with dark amusement.

"Sure, in a few weeks. Did you know that the blast mesh doesn't stop blunt attacks? Me and my kidney certainly didn't," The jingling tone of her laughter certainly made him feel marginally better. DT-227 scoffed, continuing as he rose to his feet, "Laugh it up, I'm going to bath and rest my poor kidney."

"You don't want to stick around and have something to eat?" Genuine concern was in her voice as the man gave his back a good crack. It sent a shiver of pain up DT-227's entire aching body, but the man made no comment about it.

"No, I'll eat at the room. Need to watch it, my stomach is rather tumultuous at the moment." DT-227 responded, waving her off.

"Using big words doesn't make you smart." Came Governess's retort, which DT-227 promptly ignored as he left the Guild building with his head held high.

Of course, he would just miss the arrival of three newcomers, all looking for the duo known as 'Goblin Slayer' and 'Demon Slayer'... or 'Hunter', depending on the dialect.


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: I own neither Star Wars nor Goblin Slayer, though if I did Kylo Ren would beat Rey in their first duel, cementing himself as an actual villain.**

* * *

 **Deathtrooper**

 **Chapter 12**

 **Interlude (High Elf Archer)**

* * *

Many centuries ago, there lived several dozen kingdoms and fiefdoms of man, dwarf, elf, and lizard. They were each near constantly at war with one another, fighting to wipe one another out with varying degrees of ferocity. It was during these times that the second to last demon lord attempted to rise up and enslave the free races of the continent. For the first time in history, the nation states were forced to work together lest they were destroyed by the Demon Lord's forces.

A victory was achieved, but it was most certainly pyrrhic. The population was nearly halved in those times, dwarves and elves nearly pushed to extinction. The survivors knew that such a thing, alongside their constant wars, could never be allowed to happen again lest they drive themselves extinct. So, the Commonwealth of Free Beings was formed, a sort of confederacy of the surviving nation states. Over the years, as the states interacted, the Commonwealth slowly became a single, cohesive organization.

There was peace for many years, but for the first time in a deceased, the Council was forced to convene.

That was where High Elf Archer, a young - by her race's standards - elven archer, found herself, seated off at one side alongside a few of her kin. They knew why there were there, told prior to the meeting what the Council had already agreed upon.

The Demon Lord from but a few years ago had returned, resurrected by his loyal followers which had survived the cleansing attempted by the Council. The demon was rallying forces for his crusade, the orcs in the east, the dragons to the south, and the goblins deep into the frontier. Thus, the council convened, not to gather forces to fight the demon himself, but to hunt down and exterminate his rising minions.

High Elf Archer, despite the stoic front she was putting forth, was nearly bouncing in her seat. Excitement raced through her lithe features, flashing briefly in her eyes. She was new to the adventuring game, relatively so, and had never even left her home country prior to coming to the Council itself. Now, she would be tasked with possibly slaying a dragon, or fighting her race's natural enemy: the orcs!

Naturally, the idea of fighting goblins never even registered in her mind. Every adventurer worth their salt could fight one hundred goblins, easy!

"We must send teams to recruit these adventurers. Dealing with the Demon Lord's possible recruiting pools is paramount, perhaps even more so than destroying the Demon Lord himself!" One human representative announced, his bombastic nature seemed to be a consistent annoyance to all, even his own kin.

"So we have agreed, Human Councilman Alpha," Droned Elven Councilman Beta, their naming conventions, naturally, completely overlooked by those present, "But who shall we send where?"

"We have already compiled a list whilst you were agreeing that we all did indeed agree that we agreed to send representatives to the afflicted areas," Spoke Lizardman Councilman Alpha without a hint of irony.

"I see, all in favor of allowing this compiled list to be read to the Council, say aye?" A chorus of 'ayes' followed the words, "And all opposed?"

"Nay!" Shouted one human, Human Councilman Gamma.

"I see, Human Councilman Gamma, on what grounds do you refuse?" The human rose, his nose stuck up rather haughtily.

"Scribe, repeat back Lizardman Councilman Alpha's exact words!" The scribe, a young dwarf woman, jumped at the words and quickly repeated the transcribed statement.

"We have already compiled a list whilst you were agreeing that we all did indeed agree that we agreed to send representatives to the afflicted areas-" The human slammed his hand down on the table, glaring at everyone present.

"Are you kidding me? Were you all raised in _barns_? Agreeing that we all indeed agreed that we agreed to send representatives? We haven't voted that we have agreed to agree that we agreed to agree! Also, you have not properly had this list sent through the proper legislative branches!"

"Actually, I have," An Elf woman stated from her spot, "They should be arriving momentarily." At that exact moment, the door to the room burst open to reveal a rather beleaguered and haggard human, carrying a stack of papers.

"Wait!" Shouted a Dwarf, standing on his seat and gaining the attention of all present, "We haven't voted that we agreed to allow this messenger in, nor have we agreed that we agreed to agree that we agreed there even _was_ a dark lord!"

This went on for several more hours.

Finally, the council agreed that they agreed to agree that they agreed to read the paper, and agreed to agree that they agreed to send those listed to the agreed upon places.

"To the north, to fight the great dragons shall be…" A human had risen to his feet, it being agreed and argued before being agreed once more that he should read, and spoke loudly before the entire hall. High Elf Archer, who had fallen into a sort of coma during the agreeing and agreed of the hours prior, suddenly sat up, her attention seized. Nearly one dozen names were listed, and not one of them were High Elf Archer. Though her heart sank somewhat, she tried to keep her spirits high. There were still the orcs she could possibly go up against…

"To the east where the orcs reign, we shall send…" Another dozen names were listed, and of that dozen, High Elf Archer was none of them. With a sinking feeling, she realized what that meant.

"To the frontier, where goblins have proven to be a most persistent threat, we shall send Dwarf Shaman, Lizard Priest, and High Elf Archer."

The elf in question was forced to bite her tongue lest she exclaimed in disbelief and anger at the man's words. Not only was she being sent on the least glamorous of the jobs, but also she was to be accompanied by a dwarf and lizard! The latter wouldn't be that bad, but the _former_?!

"I think we are all in agreement," Announced the human, setting the listings down, "All in favor for ending this council meeting say aye?"

"Aye!" Chorused all but one voice.

"And those opposed?"

"Nay!" Responded one.

* * *

The groups of adventurers were soon thereafter organized, quickly becoming acquainted before they set out on their grand adventures.

Bar three, of course, as their quest was less an adventure and more an extermination job. Hardly glamorous for a party of silver ranked adventurers, or so High Elf Archer believed. Naturally, the Lizardman was bizarre and proper, as his race was ought to be, and the dwarf was confrontational and found sick pleasure in riling High Elf Archer up.

The first day of traveling was something of torture for the elf, the constant jabs from the Dwarf on one side with the nonsensical philosophy of the Lizardman on her other. Night soon fell, and for that High Elf Archer was immensely grateful. Finally, she would be granted a reprieve from the verbal lashings from her Dwarven companion, and-

"Tired already, pointed ears?" Jabbed the Dwarf, his accent thick with amusement and condescension. High Elf Archer rounded on the Dwarf, looking down at him with a sneer.

"Hardly, Dwarf, I merely want to take into account your stubby legs and racial inability to keep up. It is for your sake, after all." The Dwarf, far from offended, merely quirked a lone eyebrow up, his lips curling into the beginning of a smile. He was stopped, however, by Lizard Priest, whose bulky form pressed between the two. His sudden appearance briefly startles High Elf Archer, especially when he physically pushed the duo away from each other.

"Perhaps," The Lizard started with false happiness, the smile on his face distinctly forced, "You two should rest whilst I take first watch, yes?" High Elf Archer glared balefully at the Dwarf, who returned her look with an amused glint of his own, before huffing and storming off to her bedroll. The Dwarf made to shout an insult but was silenced by the stare of the third member of their troop. Properly cowed, for now, the man slinked away to his own bedroll, on the opposite side of the fire. Both party members faced away from another, earning a sigh from Lizard Priest.

"How can you both be older than me?" Lizard Priest asked no one in particular, sitting before the fire and meditating on the day's journey.

When morning came, High Elf Archer and Dwarf Shaman's bickering started anew, much to the growing annoyance of the Lizard. Evidently deciding enough was enough, the being changed the subject to a far less irritating subject.

"What have the two of you heard about this 'Goblin Slayer'?" Lizard Priest asked, virtually shouting over Dwarf Shaman's next string of vulgar insults directed entirely at High Elf Archer. Both dragged from their dislike for one another, High Elf Archer and Dwarf Shaman looked at the third member of their party in confusion.

"Beard Cutter? Just that he kills goblins. News of his feats has not much reached my kingdom."

"Orcbolg is seen as something of a legend in my tribe," High Elf Archer explained, her earlier indignance replaced by a more conversational manner, "like those minor saints the men have. He isn't some epic hero, but instead deals with a major nuisance." Lizard Priest nodded slowly in agreement, closing his eyes as he walked.

"Hmm… In my tribe, he is seen as more of an exterminator. A man paid to deal with a minor pest. Naturally, he is far more useful than that…"

"He is?" High Elf Archer asked incredulously if the man killed nothing but goblins, then how good could he possibly be?

"Aye," It was the Dwarf that answered this time, surprising both his party members when his tone was neither scathing nor insulting, "Weak though they are in small groups, Goblins can be a major issue."

High Elf Archer snorted at the somber tone, was she to believe that _goblins_ of all things were a threat. Granted, they were basically nonexistent in the woods that housed her tribe, but most adventurers describe them as little more than a nuisance.

"Perhaps this 'Hunter' fellow may also be a decent lead to look into." The Dwarf continued without waiting for a response from High Elf Archer. Confused, she turned back into the conversation as Lizard Priest responded with a, "Perhaps, but there is so little known about him."

"Who?" High Elf Archer asked, earning bemused glances from both of her companions.

"The 'Hunter'? The man who hunts Demons? You haven't heard of him?" Dwarf Shaman demanded, and at the shake of High Elf Archer's head, he groaned, "Elves."

Before High Elf Archer could bite out a retort, Lizard Priest spoke.

"The 'Hunter', as he is called, is rumored to be a human male of jet black armor that hunts any demons that enter the Frontier."

"A human?" High Elf Archer asked incredulously, "On his own?" Lizard Priest merely shrugged, seeming indifferent at the unbelievability of such a concept.

"There are less believable rumors about him. Some say the man is immortal and has been combating demons since the time before recorded history, so…" The Dwarf gave a defeated shrug, but his words had piqued High Elf Archer's interest. How had she not heard of this person, were they an elf, if the rumors were to be believed? All rumors had some sort of start, in reality, so had someone truly slain one or more demons?

Perhaps answers would unveil themselves in the coming days.

* * *

The trio, eventually, crossed the border in the Frontier, signaled by the guards under a man named Frontier Count. Their purple and red banners waved wildly in the vicious winds, the plains dividing the nation proper and the domain of the Count a place of tumultuous weather.

"Adventurers?" The man known as Wall Captain asked after they were all seated in a ragged meeting room, "The Council has finally decided to address the goblin problem, then?"

Wall Captain set his dull helmet down on the table, its aged plume bouncing rather pathetically. The trio watched the battered knight take a seat of his own with a thankful groan.

"Goblins are a growing problem for the villages. They never pick a fight with military points, only villages and under protected convoys. That Goblin Slayer chap is doing a solid job of dealing with them, but the buggers repopulate too quickly."

"Are they really such a problem, Sir Knight?" Lizard Priest asked, earning a confused glance from Wall Captain.

"Aye, the guards can deal with a small group, but a horde of them? So few adventurers try to deal with them, fewer still survive so the goblins can multiply at an alarming rate. The town 'bout a kilometer that way," The man indicated off in a seemingly random direction, away from the border, "Goblins typically ignore it, the city guard is augmented by the regional army. If you're here to help, then god's bless you."

"Thank you for your time, Sir Knight." Lizard Priest stated, rising and bowing his head to the aged man. Wall Captain merely raised an inquisitive eyebrow but did not otherwise respond beyond watching the trio leave the room.

The trio walked in silence, bar the thump of their shows and the sound of Lizard Priest's headdress scraping along the ceiling. They were soon outside, and High Elf Archer's curiosity became too much for the young elf to contain.

"Why did you call him a knight?" She asked, earning a small nod from the dwarf. Lizard Priest cracked a small smile, a rather disconcerting movement on his scaly face.

"Did you see that plume upon his helm?" High Elf Archer raised an eyebrow, remembering the rather dull plume that fell limply on the man's helmet. It hadn't seemed very important, so why-

But her question was answered before she had even finished formulating it.

"I recognized that plume, that feather. It came from the demon ' _Aquliximar_ ', a former general of the Demon Lord." This stopped both Dwarf Shaman and High Elf Archer dead in their tracks, looking up at the lizardman with surprise written clearly on their faces.

"The Phoenix Demon?!" High Elf Archer demanded, she knew the story. Aquilximar had been a titan of a beast, coated in blood red feathers and commanding a seemingly indomitable force. He had led a crusade across the lands, wiping out two entire human kingdoms before he was finally stopped.

There was a reason, after all, that his army was deemed _seemingly_ indomitable. A hero, whose name High Elf Archer had forgotten, led a force of man and elf to face this unstoppable foe. The battle was hard, most of both sides slain in battle. Finally, in one last desperate attack, the hero sacrificed himself to deal the finishing blow upon the Demon General.

"They distributed a feather from the Demon to the survivors, telling them to wear it as a badge of honor. There live only sixteen that still have such an honor. That Knight and the count of the Frontier himself being two of them." Lizard Priest explained as the walked, ignoring the cautious and slightly sneering looks of the guards atop the walls.

"He helped kill a demon?" High Elf Archer asked, stunned that a mere knight would capable of such a task. Then again, if the rumors about the 'Hunter' were to be believed...

"Don't they teach you anything in those elf villages?" Scoffed Dwarf Shaman with a hint of scorn in his voice. High Elf Archer narrowed her eyes and made to retort with an insult of her own when Lizard Priest spoke, his voice bridging no interruptions.

"A demon does not die, _can_ not die. At least, not the Generals and Lords," Lizard Priest explained, his voice sounding slightly defeated and distraught, "It is a little known fact, held to ensure the public does not panic. Eventually, a demon comes back, resurrected. They come back stronger, faster, smarter, each time becoming a greater threat. Sometimes, they return but a few years…"

"And other times, they come back after a millennium," Continued Dwarf Shaman, sounding rather solemn now, "Why do you think they keep tossing their corpses into the dungeons? The demons can't escape and no one survives going in."

"But…" High Elf Archer was having trouble wrapping her head around this, "People have to know! It's dangerous, having demons alive and well beneath our feet!"

"It is," Agreed Lizard Priest, "But imagine, what would happen if everyone were to learn that, beneath their very feet, was a monster capable of destroying entire cities?" High Elf Archer opened her mouth to respond, but paused, for once thinking about the outcome. How would she feel, as an average, unimportant elf, of she were to learn that she lived above a demon?

With a sigh, High Elf Archer responded in a rather defeated fashion, feeling like a fool.

"Mass hysteria?"

"Got it," Dwarf Shaman grunted, lugging his back up a little higher.

"Then… how do you two know?" High Elf Archer asked, neither of them, to her knowledge, being hunters or fighters of demons.

"My brother is the chieftain of my clan, he told me as soon as he learned from another chieftain."

"I had to spend a few years as a scholar before becoming a shaman, it was in some old, dusty record."

Lucky bastards.

* * *

The trio arrived at the aforementioned town come nightfall, the only sound being the twittering of nearby creatures of the night and the muffled sounds of laughter from the one tavern. Led by their lizardman comrade, the dwarf and elf entered, wondering what to expect as neither had ever associated much with humans before.

When the door was opened by their amused escort, the duo blinked at the bright light inside. Stepping in, their reactions were quite the polar opposites.

Dwarf Shaman was distinctly disappointed, being from a culture that treated brawls and drinking as a sport, and not a pastime. Sure, some of the humans were rather belligerent with one-another, but nothing outwardly _vicious._ It was too… _tame_ for his tastes.

High Elf Archer, on the other hand, was appalled at how lackadaisical and boisterous they were all being in what any elf would treat as a subdued setting. Truly, a sign of the _childishness_ of man! She thought this all, of course, without feeling a hint of irony given her own childish tendencies regarding the dwarf.

Lizard Priest's thoughts were far more focused on how much he desired a drink and something to eat, hardly noticing the people around him as he approached the bar with a single-minded purpose. Dwarf Shaman and High Elf Archer quickly made to follow, not exactly knowing what was expected of them here.

The present bartender looked up, his expression a mix of distaste and curiosity as he took in the three non-human newcomers.

"What?" He asked, the brusque and not very talkative nature rubbing High Elf Archer the wrong way and making the dwarf feel a little closer to home.

"We would like something to drink and eat," Announced Lizard Priest with a smile, or the closest he could get without terrifying the poor man, "something cheap."

The human grunted before turning and setting to work on the order, allowing the trio to take seats at the bar. While Dwarf Shaman struggled, given his short stature and tall stools, High Elf Archer extended her senses to get a feel for the crowd. The first group, a duo of leery men, were commenting on her 'elven looks', so with a slight flush, High Elf Archer moved on to the next. A trio of middling adventurers complaining about some 'ancient object' attracting necromancers nearby. With a shake of her head at the idiocy of some magic users, High Elf Archer focused on one last group, this one piquing her interest.

"I've met 'im." One man slurred, dressed in some old leather armor and clearly intoxicated. His audience, two other people similarly dressed, seemed to be only half listening, engrossed in their bottles as they were, "the 'unter, we call 'im. Aye, right rough bastard, that one."

High Elf Archer turned slightly, wondering what this drunk fool had to say about 'the Hunter'.

"Intimidating, that one. Had to be seven, eight foot… Dressed in the blackest armor you ever saw, _jet_ black. It gleamed like it was fresh, new, but I knew better. Knew better when I saw that sodding elvish sword on his hip."

 _Elvish sword?!_

Was 'the Hunter' actually an elf? Modern elven swords were indistinguishable from a human blade, given how close the two races had gotten over the years. Ancient elven styles were very easy to pick out, and this fool did not seem the type that could tell the subtle differences between elven swords and human swords of today.

"Sod off, Pikeman, ya didn' see shit!" Snapped one of the others, "the 'unter's a _myth_ , no one could kill dozens of demons."

"He could!" Retorted 'Pikeman' with a scowl before he knocked back his drink, "o' course, he wou- woul- wouldn't need that sword. He had a… staff, weapon lookin' thing, right? Spat out bright red bolts a light."

"Now I know you're yankin' me!" The third of their party laughed, "the 'Black Knight' ain't some mage."

"Black Knight? What, are you fookin' simple? He's 'the Hunter'."

"Sod off, ya git!" A fight soon broke out among the trio, the uninvolved the group becoming confused and punching one of the others. High Elf Archer, again, shook her head at the antics of man, turning just as a glass of a nondescript, dark liquid was placed before her.

She eyed it with suspicion, wondering if the bartender had, perhaps, gone outside and scooped up some mud from the ground. The man had wandered off to tend their cooking food, so High Elf Archer was unable to question him about the origin of her drink. She was saved, or perhaps doomed, by the mocking laughter of Dwarf Shaman, seated opposite of Lizard Priest.

"It's at least something, but this human drink is too weak!" This announcement, loud as it was, earned the dwarf several pointed glares that High Elf Archer could not help but sympathize with. The dwarf's mocking stare was soon transferred over to High Elf Archer, who had yet to even touch the drink before her.

"What's wrong, long ears, the human drink too much for you?" His second bout of laughter only earned him more glares, though none were as potent as High Elf Archer's. Deciding she wanted to prove she was better than Dwarf Shaman, High Elf Archer grabbed the drink and knocked it back.

High Elf Archer did not claim to be an expert on alcohol, far from it. In fact, she had never tasted it in any form. Of course, her knowledge of alcohol was limited entirely to how wine was described to High Elf Archer, it sounded like a rather fruity drink.

A fruity drink, this human liqueur was not. In fact, it was comparable to licking the floor of this very tavern and washing it down with water from a river downstream from a pasture.

High Elf Archer made her displeasure known by coughing and gagging, regretting allowing the dwarf to goad her into trying her first drink. Naturally, she hardly counted this as alcohol, perhaps comparing it more to mud collected from the ground.

* * *

The time for sleep had come and with it the need to discuss what High Elf Archer had heard. The trio, located in Lizard Priest's room, sat in a small circle. Lizard Priest was leaned back on the small bed he had rented for the night. To his right was High Elf Archer, who was seated backward on the room's chair. To her right was Dwarf Shaman, seated on a footstool that they had found out in the hallway.

High Elf Archer recounted what it was she had heard discussed by the three drunkards, gauging her travel partner's reactions to the news. Lizard Priest crossed his arms as Dwarf Shaman scratched his beard, both looking thoughtful.

"An elven sword isn't exactly indicative of an elf," Was the first thing Dwarf Shaman said after High Elf Archer finished her recounting, "Ancient though it may be."

Lizard Priest nodded in agreement, though he seemed rather hesitant to do so.

"True, but we can not rule it could as a possibility. Whoever this 'Hunter' or 'Black Knight' may be, they clearly have some legend about them." As Dwarf Shaman conceded the point, High Elf Archer imagined who this person must look like, yet all her mind could make up was the legendary Black Knight of yore.

The Black Knight was, perhaps, one of the oldest legends among man and elf. He was a conqueror, leading a union of elf and man against the dastardly orcs and dwarves, who had aligned in their common dislike for elvish kind. The Black Knight was nigh unstoppable, armed with naught but a shortsword in one hand. He beat the greatest combatants of both enemy races before, once the war finally ended with an elfish-human victory, he vanished. No one knew what came of the Black Knight, neither elf nor man having time to look before their alliance collapsed and tensions broke out once more.

A creeping wonder entered High Elf Archer's mind, impossible that it may seem. Perhaps this 'Hunter' was actually the Black Knight of legend? High Elf Archer scoffed at the thought, wondering why she would think such a thing. A human could not live as long as the Black Knight would have to if he were to still be alive today.

 _But, what if he was an elf?_

When High Elf Archer went to sleep in her own room not ten minutes later, that same thought was racing through her head. After all, no one _knew_ if the Black Knight was elf or man, or even male or female.

* * *

It was several days of travel later before the beleaguered and exhausted trio found their way to the next town, far larger than the last. It was a trading site, standing at a crossroads between the local city and 'Frontier Town', a veritable metropolis and center of the Adventuring Guild in the frontier.

Before the trio could find a place to rest, however, their collective attention was drawn to a crowd of people gathered before a clearly refit and refurbished building. Investigating, they found the building to be a trade shop of sorts before it a rather rat looking man who looked as if it were his birthday.

The crowd was clambering to get closer and see into the window of the shop, which held a number of ornate and well-crafted weapons-

High Elf Archer blinked, those weapons were familiar. Not in a way that she knew them by name, but that those weapons were designed much like her race developed their swords and bows in the olden days. That couldn't be, people had tried to make replicas but even someone as unattuned to the mystic arts as she was could tell those weapons were the genuine article.

High Elf Archer narrowed her eyes, looking first to the ratty shop containing the weapons and then to the man himself. He did not look well traveled nor skilled enough to obtain such weapons, so from where did he retrieve them?

"Wonder what's going on- Hey, long ears, where are you going?" Dwarf Shaman called after High Elf Archer, who was pushing her way through the crowd and in the direction of the merchant.

The rather dumpy man was speaking loudly to the clambering crowd, moving with great sweeping motions and indicating to the enclosed weapons every other word. High Elf Archer approached the man's stand, an unmarked crate about a foot tall, and stared up at him. The man, seemingly noticing the newcomer, beamed widely down at her with even ounce of his businessman guile.

"Welcome, madame…" He faltered upon spying High Elf Archer's ears, "elf… Would you like to purchase one of my legendary artifacts?" High Elf Archer, with her usual level of brusqueness, responded: "Where did you get these?"

The man seemed taken aback for the briefest of moments before responding with an equally jovial tone of voice.

"Why, from the great Demon Hunter('s partner)! He cleared the dungeon, conquered his foe, and sold to me the treasures of battle!" Announced the merchant, his voice rising as he announced the same to the gathered crowd. Their excited tittering became louder still, drowning out High Elf Archer's attempt at further interrogating the man. With a defeated sigh, she forced her way back through the throng of people and towards her onlooker comrades.

"Apparently, the 'Demon Slayer' himself sold that merchant his weapons," Stated High Elf Archer, both sounding and feeling far less incredulous then she had mere days before. In any other occasion, High Elf Archer would have just assumed that the merchant was selling cheap goods to cash in on the 'Demon Slayer' mystique. However, even the magically uninclined High Elf Archer could sense the ancient magic upon the weapons, their gleaming blades not shining just because of how well polished they were.

Dwarf Shaman scratched at his beard in deep thought, clearly bewildered.

"Unless this is a scam, it is safe to assume that the Demon Hunter is very much real and in the local area. Perhaps heading to the tavern may glean us some more information as to his location?" High Elf Archer narrowed her eyes, the last time they had been in a tavern still fresh in her mind. Lizard Priest clearly sensed her growing ire, diffusing the situation before it could get violent.

"We can find something that is not alcoholic for you, High Elf Archer. Dwarf Shaman has a fair point, however. Lips are far more loose in taverns."

And so, without much agreement on the part of High Elf Archer, the trio made their way to the local tavern, looking to feed first their stomachs and then discover who or what the 'Demon Hunter' was.

It was far less dingy then the previous tavern the trio had stopped at, but it was still rather unsightly to High Elf Archer, as used as she was to elven architecture and housing. Dwarf Shaman was annoyed for a far different reason, this place was far too clean and clam to be a pub ignoring the fact it was still midday.

Inside resided only four other beings, all of which were human. One, a haggard, tired looking older gentleman, was standing behind the bar counter, speaking quietly with a young woman seated opposite him. The man only nodded to the newcomers, so engrossed was he in his conversation with the young woman.

The other two were young men, one dressed up in leather armor, speaking in increasingly noisy tones. Choosing to ignore them for the time being, High Elf Archer and company took seats at a small table off to one side of the tavern, furthest from the two heated young men.

"Barkeep," Called Lizard Priest, waving at the man in question, "Some food and refreshments, please! Non-alcoholic for our elven friend here!" High Elf Archer flushed slightly in embarrassment, but shook her head and leaned back in her seat. Without any prodding from her company, the elf honed her elven hearing in on the conversation of the two young men.

"- Aye, it's true," The one not dressed in armor spoke smugly, clearly noticing his company's attention, "jet black armor, that elven sword of his, and the beautiful maiden at his side. Saw them, I did."

"Anyways, we'll have to wait a while until the townsfolk arrive-" Dwarf Shaman's loud, abrasive voice assaulted High Elf Archer's concentrated ears as a battering ram would to the gates of a city. She flinched and nearly cried out, glaring at the dwarf in question. He seemed confused by her sudden reaction but fell silent when she spoke.

"Hush!" She hissed through her teeth before, once again, leaning back in her seat and listening to the duo speak. She missed what the armored one said, but the unarmored man snorted in response to whatever it was.

"Please, the Demon Hunter isn't some myth. He went into a dungeon with four people, only he and three others returned. Apparently, he kept the lot of them alive all that time. Townsfolk were worried they had all died, especially the owner of the lodge they were staying at."

"Posh," Responded the armored man, his voice far more dignified, "You'll have me believe that a group of four people defeated a demon?"

"There's a reason why they call the man 'Demon Hunter'," The young man warned ominously, "They say he is as old as time memorial, born with one purpose: to cleanse this world of the demons, the orcs, the goblins, all who threaten the rightful rulers of these lands." High Elf Archer had to admit, the young man was a good storyteller. His description of the Demon Hunter, or Hunter, or Black Knight, whatever he was, certainly excited High Elf Archer. With the Demon Lord rising, they would need all the help they could get, and how better than to recruit the man whose job it is to hunt demons.

Alas, it seemed such a fanciful idea was nothing more than a pipe dream, as the young woman at the counter turned and spoke rather scornfully towards the moving speaker.

"Perhaps, Ranch Hand, you could stop spreading lies about Sir Deathtrooper and trying to get newcomers to believe your hare-brained stories," She turned her attention towards the now confused man in armor, the faintest of smirks on her lips, "He's tried to convince newcomers to our town that he had fought alongside Sir Deathtrooper or even that he was the man in question. He is no demigod, Sir Deathtrooper is just a human." And with that, she returned her attention to the meal before her.

Her interest now piqued, High Elf Archer related to her comrades what it was the two young men had been discussing.

"It seems she knows 'Sir Deathtrooper' personally." Commented Lizard Priest, who leaned back in his seat and looked rather thoughtful, "Perhaps speaking with her may glean us more information about this phantom man?" High Elf Archer and Dwarf Shaman nodded the agreement, but it was the former that rose to her feet.

"Then it's settled, I'll speak with her and learn what I can about this 'Sir Deathtrooper'."

"Wait," Lizard Priest managed, seeming stunned and slightly worried at High Elf Archer's gung-ho manner, "perhaps waiting might be the better-" Alas for the lizardman, the elf already bounced away to speak with the other woman.

"Elves," Groaned Dwarf Shaman, shaking his head in both wonderment and disappointment.

High Elf Archer, ignoring the words of her party members, skipped over to the other woman and plopped with a sigh into the seat next to her. Clearly not expecting this, the young woman jumped with a slight cry of shock, eyeing High Elf Archer with deep confusion.

"Can I… help you?" The young woman asked slowly, edging away from High Elf Archer. The elf, hardly deterred, spoke in a light, jovial tone.

"I couldn't help but overhear that you knew the Demon Hunter rather personally?" The woman immediately became suspicious, regarding High Elf Archer with a critical eye.

"So?" The woman's tone made it clear that getting any information from her would be no easy task, but fortunately for High Elf Archer, she _was_ a little hard-headed.

"I was hoping…" High Elf Archer spoke slowly, as if she felt a little bad about asking her following question (she didn't), "you tell me who he is and where he is currently."

The young woman's eyes hardened, becoming comparable to flint.

"Why?" Her voice made it clear that getting any straight answers from her would be impossible but subtly was far from High Elf Archer's most prevalent skills.

"We, meaning me and my two companions over there," High Elf Archer jerked her thumb over to the lizard and dwarf still seated at their table, "we're looking to hire him to help us deal with the rising demon threat." A lie, they hadn't even known 'Deathtrooper' was an actual person until that very day. The woman seemed to become slightly less suspicious, but a significant amount more morose.

"Then you've heard the legends about him?" Without waiting for an answer, the young woman continued, "Deathtrooper is a good fighter… no, the man is an obscenely skilled fighter. I watched him kill one dozen goblins before any had a moment to lift a finger to stop him. There was this calm, calculating atmosphere. I don't know if he's still the same as when I knew him, but the man saw everything as a resource with varying degrees of disposability. When he and Governess went to into that dungeon, there were gone for some time." The young woman paused, taking a sip of her drink and a quick bite of her food. Using the moment spared to chew, she soon continued, "When he came back, the man looked like he was half dead, carrying the body of one of their party. He was bedridden for several days, and I heard from Governess that he had been on the precipice of death. My mother fears him and my father saw him as a potentially useful weapon. In the end, that was what he was. Flickers of goodness, of humanity, overpowered by this cold, calculating militarism." The young woman shook her head, sighing, "My anger over people spreading rumors about the man is not because of some misbegotten belief that these lies are evil, but because they _aren't needed_. I saw with my own eyes when he saved me from goblins that he will make a name for himself, whether it was intentional or otherwise."

She looked back up, realizing that she was still talking to High Elf Archer and offering a slightly embarrassed smile.

"Pardon my rudeness, my name is Clerk Girl, may I ask who you are?" Clerk Girl asked, her earlier demeanor vanishing, replaced quickly by a far more pleasant outlook. High Elf Archer blinked at the shift, not expecting such a startling change, but decided to roll with it. Whatever the girl's reasoning, High Elf Archer would respect it.

"High Elf Archer, a silver ranked adventurer!" Clerk Girl's eyes widened, likely not accustomed to seeing people of High Elf Archer's ranking around.

"Oh! I see, whatever task you have Sir Deathtrooper must be quite difficult, then!"

"Indeed," A new voice chirped up, drawing both women's attention. Lizard Priest and Dwarf Shaman took seats off to High Elf Archer's left, "Pardon our intrusion, I am Lizard Shaman, this is Dwarf Shaman. We are High Elf Archer's companions in this task. We are here for Sir Deathtrooper and one other." Clerk Girl blinked before cocking her head, seeming pointedly confused.

"Another? Are you talking about Governess?"

"Governess?" Lizard Priest repeated before shaking his head, "No, we have no idea who that is."

"Oh," Clerk Girl ducked her head, looking a tad bit embarrassed, "I should have figured. She didn't seem all that good at fighting."

"What can you tell us about them?" High Elf Archer asked, drawing the attention of Cler Girl once again. The young woman looked thoughtful once again, scratching her chin in deep thought.

"I see… Well, Governess is around your height, Madame High Elf Archer, with very porcelain and well-tended skin. She is of noble birth, if her title is to go by, and seems to be the ward of Sir Deathtrooper. She is kind, hardly arrogant and _slightly_ sarcastic. She seemed to have made it her goal to make Sir Deathtrooper human…" Clerk Girl paused, looking off into space.

"Make him human…?" Dwarf Shaman pushed, earning glares from his other two party members. Clerk Girl shook her head, continuing.

"Ah… Yes, that brings us to Sir Deathtrooper. I've only seen his face once, and it was rather… underwhelming? I was expecting the face of an aged, battle-hardened knight, but he just seemed like a regular man. He was pale, likely from spending so much time in his armor, with short, neat black hair. Everything, from his armor to his hair, was uniform. He was tall, almost as tall as you, Sir Lizard Priest," This earned looks of surprise from the group, this man must be rather intimidating, "and despite being a tad… _skinny,_ he was immensely strong. Sir Deathtrooper's most distinct aspect, aside from her personality, was his armor. It was jet black, and though it seemed too flimsy, the chestplate deflected sword and arrow alike without so much as a scratch. The armor reminded me of the Atherian Rangers from… well, the human kingdom of Atheria, but it stood out with his helmet," The young woman shuddered at that, "It was simple, in hindsight. It had a small area on the lower portion for him to talk through, as well as a tinted window of sorts."

"He had a window on his helmet?" Asked High Elf Archer incredulously, wondering how the man avoided getting glass in his eyes if the visor ever shattered. Clerk Girl merely shrugged with a defeated manner, evidently not knowing the answer either, "The worst part is when I saw the dim lights on his helmet. In the cavern he rescued me from, all I saw were these two dim, green orbs that looked like eyes…" She shuddered before quickly changing subjects.

"His personality, however, well… it was as if he ever had one. As I said, he's like a… golem or something. Not truly alive, merely the instrument of someone else. However, at least, in the end, he began to understand compassion. I haven't heard from them since then…" The young woman looked off into space, rather morose, "I hope they're still okay..."

It was at that moment that the young woman realized the tavern had since filled up from the start of her story, and nearly all occupants were listening to her with bated breath. The young woman, evidently not used to having substantial attention thrust upon her, sputtered incoherently for some time until she left a couple hours later.

Naturally, the trio realized too late that the young woman never said what had become of Sir Deathtrooper and Governess. With no leads or any idea where their most recent quarry, the trio decided to head towards the capital of the Frontier, Frontier Town.

Frontier Town was a veritable fortress, the entire city protected by the walls and defended by the elite and veteran Frontier Guard. While never having been there herself, High Elf Archer had heard stories of the fortress city. It was the furthest recognized human settlement of the region and was the seat of power for the local Count.

"If there is somewhere in the region that a person would want to keep a VIP alive and safe would be Frontier Town," Dwarf Shaman pointed out the following morning to the other two, gathered bright and early in the tavern, much to the annoyance of the clearly exhausted keeper.

"We know the 'Goblin Slayer' is there as well, so even if we can't find this infamous Deathtrooper, we will at least achieve our mission," Lizard Priest agreed with a nod, both turning to look at the last of their party. It took High Elf Archer several minutes to realize they were waiting for her to agree, to which she merely shrugged.

"What? I agree, it seems Dwarves can sometimes have good ideas."

"Oi!"

* * *

Another few days, finally, saw the company arrive in front of the Guild Hall for the entire Frontier, and a Hall it was. Standing at three stories tall, it nearly matched the Lord's hall in sheer size, though it was far more bright and colorful compared to the grey fortress.

Of course, that didn't much distract High Elf Archer from the fact that the trio was drawing the attention of every passerby. While she had seen others of their races, High Elf Archer wasn't too foolish to not admit they their state of dress and composition was rather bizarre. The guards at the gate, the elite and veteran forces commanded by the Count, regarded them with substantial suspicion.

High Elf Archer could tell Dwarf Shaman was slightly off-put by the many stares they were receiving, but Lizard Priest was, what else, completely oblivious of it.

Without any preamble, the trio stepped through the doors and out of the protection, and guidance, of the gods, unwittingly placing themselves in the crosshairs of chance and fate. Not that they knew that… _yet._

Dwarf Shaman and Lizard Priest paused just through the doorway, taking in the Guild Hall with surprise, though the Dwarf's surprise was mixed with joy at the far more brilliant and lively crowd inside. Naturally, adventurers, who lived their lives on the precipice of death and success, were not the sort to enjoy quiet environments.

Unfortunately, High Elf Archer was not so easily distracted. As much as she spoke of the narrow-minded tendencies of humans, she was just as if not more so hardheaded. The young woman at the desk, who now seemed noticeably off-put at the speedy and aggressive manner in which High Elf Archer approached her, smiled slightly.

"Hello, and welcome to the Guild! How may we help you today?" She asked with a kind and clearly rehearsed tone.

"We are looking for Orcbolg," High Elf Archer stated, never once the thought that perhaps this woman had no idea who or what an 'Orcbolg' was. The young woman blinked before cocking her head with a look of confusion.

"Sorry… Orc…?" The young woman spoke slowly, the name clearly unfamiliar to her, "You mean 'Oak'?"

"No!" Exclaimed High Elf Archer with an exasperated tone of voice, her hand slamming down on the counter and causing the young woman to jump, "Orcbolg! I've heard he's at this guild!"

The young woman still, evidently, had no idea who or what High Elf Archer was talking about, but turned and made to leave the counter, "Orcbolg… Just a moment, please. I'll check."

"Ahh, y' needn't bother!" A new voice joined in, Dwarf Shaman and Lizard Priest finally noticing the final third of their party making quite the spectacle of herself, "We're in human lands, Long-Ears! They don't understand your funny talk!"

High Elf Archer narrowed her eyes at the dwarf, who rubbed his beard with one hand whilst thinking.

"But surely you know Beard Cutter?" The young woman, once more, blinked.

"Sorry, that name's not familiar…" She sounded genuinely apologetic, especially when Dwarf Shaman exclaimed his disbelief at such a statement.

"Who's talking funny now, huh?" Cackled High Elf Archer, her earlier task forgotten in place of getting a jab in at Dwarf Shaman, "So much for Dwarves! Stubborn as rocks and so sure they're always right!" She giggled into her hand, accidentally causing a few nearby men to grip their hearts at the rather cute sound.

"What was that?!" Demanded the dwarf. His anger lasted for but another moment before a far more nefarious smile took its place.

"Heh, heh. You elves… That explains it." He clicked his tongue in a disappointed, absent manner, drawing High Elf Archer's confused look.

"Hearts as hard as anvils…" And as he turned to face High Elf Archer with a grin to match that of a dragon, she slowly realized what the punchline would be, "and just as flat."

A moment's grace period passed where, if Dwarf Shaman had been smart, the swarf should have run.

"Th-that's nothing to do with anything!" High Elf Archer snapped, one arm going over her… _lacking_ chest protectively whilst she glared at the dwarf, desperately wishing for him to burst into flames, "You dirty old man!"

"Me? What would I want with an anvil?" Questioned Dwarf Shaman rather absently, as if he hadn't just insulted the elf.

"This, when all your women are barrel-shaped!" High Elf Archer, not wishing to lose face before a dwarf of all people, jumped to the offensive.

"Excuse me, let's all get along," The girl behind the desk attempted to mediate, but her olive branch of peace was ignored entirely by the duo.

"The word is plump, and a barrel's better than an anvil!" As the argument grew more heated and a few of the veteran adventurers looked ready to step in and more _forcefully_ separate them, Lizard Priest stepped forwards.

"Pardon me, you two…" Both dwarf and elf turned to face the last of their party. Though his face held a smile, the unspoken threats of violence in his eyes certainly added some bite to his next words, "But if you must fight, do it where I can't see you." Realizing this was a fight that they could not win, both dwarf and elf agreed to a brief peace treaty, which would, in all honesty, would probably last as long as they were in the building.

"My humble apologies," Lizard Priest spoke, now addressing the girl behind the counter once again with an apologetic tone of voice, "for my irascible companions."

"Oh, n-not at all! All out adventurers are such passionate people. I'm used to it…" Lizard Priest gave a sagely nod even as the woman regarded the trio with deep confusion.

"We seek one known by the name 'Orcbolg' and 'Beard Cutter'," The lizard paused, thinking as the young woman's look of confusion prevailed, "Lamentably, I lack the facility in the tongues of men, but… Goblin…" And as he looked for the proper word, the door behind the company opened. High Elf Archer and Dwarf Shaman turned to face the newcomer, their thoughts on him vastly different from one another. The elf thought him rather trashy looking, assuming him to be poor. Dwarf Shaman, on the other hand, was not so quick to judge. He could see the way this newcomer carried himself, the damage on his armor and the emblem about his neck. There was, clearly, more to this man than met the eye.

"Hey, no cuts!" Exclaimed High Elf Archer petulantly as the man pushed past her, "We're talking here!"

"Yes, He's called Goblin Slayer!" Lizard Priest finished at the same time as High Elf Archer, their voices joined by the deep monotone of the newcomer, who said,

"Did you say goblin?" The newcomer stopped at the counter, ignoring the three other species around him as if they were the single most benign thing he had ever seen, "Where?"

"Goblin Slayer!" The young woman said with quite some relief and, unless High Elf Archer was mistaken, joy. She was, however, too stunned that this… dumpy looking man was the Goblin Slayer of legend, it seemed myths could disappoint.

"Hi, we're back." Announced another newcomer, following Goblin Slayer. She was young, especially for a human, with soft, flowing blond hair.

* * *

The party of three managed to secure a meeting room for their unexpected, but greatly appreciated, run in with the infamous Goblin Slayer.

Well, Lizard Priest and Dwarf Shaman were. The last of their company, High Elf Archer, was none too impressed with Goblin Slayer, expecting some sort of skilled, well-armored knight. Instead, she got a man who looked as if he had dragged her armor from the dumpster and pieced it together with whatever he could find.

He certainly smelt the part…

"Are you really a silver ranked?" Lizard Priest asked honestly, meaning no offense by it.

"So the Guild says," High Elf Archer said with a sneer, eyeing Goblin Slayer like he were a sort insect that was beneath her, "I honestly don't believe it."

She took a seat, ignoring the shocked looks of her comrades and the one they called 'Guild Girl, the woman they had been talking to earlier.

"I've seen bugs more intimidating than you."

"Don't be stupid, Long-Ears!" Dwarf Shaman scoffed, sighing painfully as he sat as well, "You want to know what I see?"

And then, without prompting, the dwarf explained in great detail the effectiveness of Goblin Slayer's supplies and armor, sow the sheer canyon that was the gap between his and High Elf Archer's experience level.

"Leather armor for ease of movement. Chainmail to stop a dagger in the dark. A helmet to protect the head. A small sword and shield to use in narrow spaces…" The dwarf nodded as he spoke, Goblin Slayer was clearly a master of his craft.

"Couldn't he at least… clean it a little?" High Elf Archer asked as if the man in question wasn't present.

"Clean items reek of metal," Goblin Slayer's deadpan tone, while unsettling to High Elf Archer, properly chastised the elf, "They have an excellent sense of smell."

"Gods!" The dwarf silenced any argument High Elf Archer could have made, "This is what you get for being so in love with your bow, Long-Ears! You're but a youngling driven out of her forest by boredom! You should learn something from your venerable elder!"

"I'm 2,000 (give or take) years old. How about you?" To save face, High Elf Archer quickly rounded on Dwarf Shaman, challenge clear in her voice.

"... One-hundred and seven." The dwarf grumbled the idea that High Elf Archer was, at least physically, older than him rather horrifying.

"Oh me, oh my! Gone grey so young! So you only look like my elder!" High Elf Archer giggled merrily, the tinkering of her voice causing a vein to start throbbing on the dwarf's forehead.

"Enough talk of your antiquity." Lizard Priest sighed, "You shame us who do not measure our lives in centuries."

"And what do you want with me?" Goblin Slayer, evidently growing annoyed over the wasted time he was spending with these three, Guild Girl had made her escape before an argument could break out when he could be killing goblins.

"More and more demons have appeared near the capital lately, as I'm sure you know-" High Elf Archer, for once, sounded serious, but she promptly cut off by Goblin Slayer.

"I do not." His blunt delivery caused her to blink, taken aback, but the elf was not dissuaded for long.

"It's due to the revival of one of the dark gods. They're building an army to destroy the world!"

"I see." High Elf Archer closed her eyes, trying to fight her rising temper.

"And we were hoping… with your help…"

"I am not Deathtrooper," Goblin Slayer's tone did not once change, "Find someone else. I hunt goblins or nothing."

Ignoring the comment about 'Deathtrooper', or how Goblin Slayer knew this person, High Elf Archer rose to her feet and slammed her hands on the table. Her anger got the better of her, elven stoicism abandoned long before.

"Don't you get it?! An army of demons is coming! We're talking about the fate of the world! Do you understand that?!"

"Perfectly," Goblin Slayer answered, his tone and posture not even shifting at High Elf Archer's reactions, "But before the world ends, goblins will put an end to many more villages. We cannot ignore the goblins because the world is in danger."

At this point, High Elf Archer was half climbing over the table, looking about ready to try beating some sense into the stubborn man.

"Why you- I said-"

"Hold on, Long-Ears. Think! We didn't come here to force anything on him!"

"Goblin Slayer," Lizard Priest stepped in before High Elf Archer could do anything obscenely foolish, "Please don't misunderstand us. We have, in fact, come to ask you to kill goblins."

"I see," Goblin Slayer's tone did not shift as he continued, "In that case, I accept. Where are they? How many? Any sign of shamans or hobs?"

This seemed to be too much for Dwarf Shaman, who broke out into laughter as High Elf Archer questioned her sanity. Lizard Priest, rather amused himself, was surprised Goblin Slayer did not ask first about payment. Pushing aside those thoughts, he continued.

"I understand goblins are your sole concern, but please, hear our story. One of the Demon Lords, heretofore sealed away, has awakened and now seeks to exterminate us. Hence the chieftains of our tribes, all the kings of men, and the leaders of the elves and dwarves held a great conference."

"And we," Dwarf Shaman picked up there, High Elf Archer still clearly put out, "are the representatives they've sent."

"A great battle is coming," The elf picked up there, her voice unnaturally solemn, "A great battle is coming."

"The problem, see, is those nasty little goblins have started growing more active in elf lands," Dwarf Shaman chanced a glance at High Elf Archer, who seemed a little downcast now at a subject matter, "I don't blame this lass for feeling antsy."

Goblin Slayer was silent for a moment before asking his next question.

"Have any champions or lords emerged?"

"Champions? Lords?" Repeated Lizard Priest, never having heard these names before.

"Goblin Heroes, Goblin Kings. Platinum ranks, in our terms." High Elf Archer sucked in a breath, were there goblins so powerful?

"Our investigation has revealed a single, exceptionally large nest. But…" Lizard Priest merely shrugged in defeat, never having heard any report of such monsters.

"The military won't bother with goblins." There was actual disdain in Goblin Slayer's voice, which lost its usually emotionless tone, "as ever."

"If the elves made a unilateral move to eliminate the nest, the human kings might assume we were plotting something," High Elf Archer explained, wondering if they were convincing the man, "So we were entrusted with this task as adventurers, and Orcbolg, out of all humans we have chosen you."

A pregnant moment passed, hope rising High Elf Archer's heart. While fighting goblins was far from honorable, their deaths would at least serve her people.

"If there are is no clear sign of leadership, and demons may have had a hand in this…" Goblin Slayer seemed thoughtful, and for a worrying moment High Elf Archer thought he might refuse, "... I'm not sure I can fight a demon. There's someone I want to hire and bring along." The trio blinked, wondering who it was this famous man would want or need to bring and help.

"Your female partner, the Priestess girl?" Dwarf Shaman asked she hadn't seemed like much.

"No," Goblin Slayer shook his head, "A man named Deathtrooper."

* * *

 **A/N: To any willing and able to be a Beta Reader for this story, please PM me! There are only two (as of 4/14/2019) Beta Readers available for Goblin Slayer fics, one being French and the other being yours truly.**

 **Any help is appreciated!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: I own neither Star Wars nor Goblin Slayer, but if I did, the villains of the new trilogy would either be the Imperial Remnant or the Empire of the Hand.**

* * *

 **Deathtrooper**

 **Chapter 13**

 **Fellowship**

* * *

High Elf Archer had seen and heard her fair share of strange occurrences, High Elves were, after all, far from the most normal of races compared to others. However, hearing the stoic and emotionless Goblin Slayer speak so casually about the _local legend_ Deathtrooper, as if they were acquainted and commonly worked together, certainly ranked high among those bizarre happenings.

She blinked, shook her head, blinked again, and then spoke.

" _You_ know Deathtrooper?" She asked, her voice lacking emotion, wondering if their little party had, indeed, gotten so lucky as to find not just Goblin Slayer, but their secondary, and unprecedented, target.

Goblin Slayer paused, studying the elf for a brief few seconds before nodding.

"Yes? Everyone knows Deathtrooper." The man sounded rather bemused before shaking his head and getting straight into the business he was most interested in. There was a shift in his posture, he leaned forwards and propped his elbows on his knees, his entire body seemingly stiffening with unspoken anticipation. The man enthusiasm, betrayed in his movements, was equal parts amusing and off-putting for High Elf Archer, who had only ever seen goblins as little more than a minor nuisance.

"Do you have a map?" The man asked, completely abandoning the topic of Deathtrooper in favor of his preferred choice of subject. High Elf Archer bit back a sigh as Lizard Priest rummaged through his bag, she wanted to learn more about this supposed 'Demon Slayer'. How useful he would be for the war effort against the Demon Lord…

"Here," Lizard Priest handed the old scroll over to Goblin Slayer, who pulled it open and set it on the table for all to see. Neither of the other three adventurers spoke for the minute or so Goblin Slayer studied the map, his helmet moving only the barest inch as he studied the yellowing parchment.

"Old ruins?" He asked finally, never looking up from the parchment as Lizard Priest, who was standing off to one side of the table and studying the man, responded.

"Most likely." Goblin Slayer seemed to pause at that, studying the map with the sort of intensity High Elf Archer had seen only in the scholars of the great Elven libraries.

"Number?" Was the bizarre man in cheap armor's next question, turning his heart a quarter of an inch to look at Lizard Priest, his tone of voice remaining the same.

"Very large," Lizard Priest, High Elf Archer quickly realized, seemed amused by this turn of event. She was confused, of course, until Goblin Slayer suddenly rose and stowed the map into a pouch on his belt.

"Okay," He announced, walking for the door, "I'll leave immediately."

"Huh?" High Elf Archer asked rather foolishly, the other two of her party seeming more amused than anything else as Goblin Slayer left the room, calling over his shoulder.

"Pay me whatever you choose." Was his final words before the door, surprisingly gently, came to shut, leaving the party of three all to their lonesome in the meeting room. Each of them remained silent for a few moments before High Elf Archer, speaking slowly and deliberately, asked the most pertinent question on her mind.

"Does he mean to go alone?" Her voice was nearly devoid of life, a sign of just how deep her confusion went. Dwarf Shaman actually broke out into laughter at her words, his great, portly stomach jiggling with his delight.

"Perhaps, come." Lizard Priest led the way out of the room, a still rather bemused High Elf Archer and still cackling Dwarf Shaman trailing behind him. The trio came to stop at the railing overseeing the hall below, easily picking out Goblin Slayer among the throng of similarly or better dressed adventurers. Given that it was midday, most of the adventurers were out and High Elf Archer, with the advantage of her elven hearing, could pick out what Goblin Slayer was saying to the young woman he had arrived with.

Getting a better look at her, High Elf Archer conceded she was rather conventionally pretty. Her blonde hair, which seemed to glow brightly and healthily, gave the young woman a rather angelic look about her, matched by the blue and white of her flowing robes. Clearly, she was a priestess of sorts, associated with the church of the Earth Mother if memory serves. Her staff, the conduit through which her miracles were used, was a dark brown interlaced with golden bands. The staff itself was topped by an ornate decoration of gold and unknown blue gems, all of which seemed to be laden with power hidden just beneath the surface.

"Goblin Slayer!" She called, walking over to the man in question as he, seemingly, spoke to 'Guild Girl' at the front desk. Goblin Slayer turned to face the young woman, his likely intense stare stopping her a few paces back. High Elf Archer, with the help of some racial magic, managed to hone her hearing enough to pick up the entirety of their no spoken conversation, even the hitches in words or the speed of their hearts.

Goblin Slayer, as he was with words and actions, had the front of being completely and utterly calm, either unable to notice or uncaring of the girl's clear nervousness. High Elf Archer could hear the young woman's heart rate picking up drastically, especially when Goblin Slayer turned to face her, the barest hints of a blush setting across her face. High Elf Archer wasn't very skilled when it came to reading human emotions, but it was rather evident that this girl held some level of infatuation for Goblin Slayer. A foolish notion, in High Elf Archer's mind, the man seemed rather abrasive and callous at times.

"U-um," The young woman stumbled over her words at first before managing to find strength enough to continue, "That was a quest, wasn't it?"

Goblin Slayer answered with his, seemingly, usual bluntness.

"Yes. Goblin Slaying." The young woman clearly brightened at the man's words, and with a newfound courage, continued.

"All right! Just let me-" She started, but was interrupted by the forceful tone of Goblin Slayer, who had not shifted his stance in front of the counter.

"No," It was so blunt, so vicious, that High Elf Archer felt rather terrible for the young woman. That feeling was compounded as her bright blue eyes seemed shattered as well as hurt by such a curt and emotionless denial of her, supposed, comrade. The young woman's heart actually skipped a fearful beat at the announcement.

"What?" Was all the meek young woman managed, clearly unable to formulate much more beyond that in terms of a response. Goblin Slayer, likely thinking nothing was out of the ordinary, continued.

"I'll go alone." Now, the attention of nearly all nearby adventurers was now on the dynamic duo, curiosity written in their many features. Guild Girl seemed distinctly uncomfortable but otherwise unsure how to react or if she should even step in.

High Elf Archer sympathized with the employee, she too wishing to jump in defence of this poor, young woman. However, it seemed any intervention from either party was unneeded as the young woman grew enough of a backbone to talk back, even if her response was stuttered and clearly nervous.

"At least…" She swallowed nervously, but managed to keep unflinching eye contact with Goblin Slayer through the visor of his battered helmet, "At least… you… you could talk to me before you decide… you know?"

Goblin Slayer froze for but a moment before responding with a blunt, and entirely genuine, question.

"Aren't I?" The young woman's blush appeared on her teary-eyed face at the honest question, clearly warmed that Goblin Slayer was at least attempting a more human action.

A few seconds of awkward silence passed between the duo as they merely stared at one another, Goblin Slayer truly confused and the young woman attempting to find something to say that would be worthwhile.

"Oh… I guess this is talking, yes." There was a dejected, but amused, tone to her voice, one that sounded as if this were a common occurrence. The situation went from pitying to rather bizarre as Goblin Slayer responded with a clearly pleased, or as pleased as the man could get, statement.

"I believe it is." The young woman sighed, shaking her head at the hijinks of Goblin Slayer. A smile soon replaced the look of dejection that had been on her face moments before, speaking to Goblin Slayer with a kind, but firm, tone.

"It's not much of a talk if you've already made up your mind." She warned, a slightly teasing tone to her voice, but one still filled with affection and admiration.

"It isn't?" Goblin Slayer asked, once again with total honesty. The young woman cracked a wry smile before pulling on her Priestess cap, her eyes scrunching up with delight.

"I'm coming with you," She announced, "As if I'd leave you alone!"

The young woman's words seemed to give Goblin Slayer pause, as if he were genuinely surprised that she was so rearing to accompany him. The man surprise passed as soon as it arrived, his emotionless tone responding seemingly with indifference.

"Do what you want."

"Thank you, I will!" The young woman announced, beaming happily at the words of her companion. The reaction brought the barest of smiles to High Elf Archer's face, it was always nice to see new adventurers excited for coming adventures.

"Even we can see what's going on here." Declared Dwarf Shaman, as if everyone saw what he did. High Elf Archer, rather confused, slung her bow over her shoulder and scratched at the side of her head.

"What do we do?" High Elf Archer asked absently, the man had seemed perfectly content with going alone to clear out the fortress on own. Granted, he was now being joined by the young priestess looking woman, but should they respect his privacy? Their mission here was, after all, to hire him for their job. It said nothing about them being involved.

Dwarf Shaman made the choice for High Elf Archer, chuckling haughty to himself before making for the stairs.

"That girl's got promise!" He announced loudly, "This won't be boring!"

"To propose a quest and refuse to aid in it…" High Elf Archer turned to find the other member of their small party shaking his head and clicking his tongue, "My ancestors would be ashamed."

With that small comment, Lizard Priest followed their dwarven companion down the stairs, leaving High Elf Archer all to her lonesome.

"I just don't get it," She murmured to herself, turning to look at Goblin Slayer once again. He seemed unaware of the discussion occurring among his contractors, speaking in a hushed tone with the young woman.

"I just don't get him," High Elf Archer shook her head in a vain attempt to clear it of these bizarre and confusing thoughts, a wry smile coming to her lips. She was an adventurer, first and foremost, and even if the job was just to hunt Goblins, the elf would never throw away a chance for an adventure.

"Sheesh… You guys!" The dwarf and lizardman turned, looking up at High Elf Archer as she jogged over to the edge of the stairs and jumped down.

"Don't you think you should respect your elders?!" She landed softly, displaying the grace expected of her race. Both Dwarf Shaman and Lizard Priest displayed amused grins, waiting for her to approach them.

"Aye, guess we should treat you a little more carefully, eh, grandma elf?" Dwarf Shaman teased before having himself a good bout of laughter. High Elf Archer gave a small pout before grabbing his ear and giving it a good tug. Dwarf Shaman gave a cry of indignance and pain, but High Elf Archer wasn't feeling especially merciful.

"Perhaps this can wait?" Lizard Priest asked, making himself known, "You are making quite the spectacle of yourselves." High Elf Archer debated ignoring the threat laden in Lizard Priest's voice, but decided that was not really conducive to a successful relationship.

"He started it," High Elf Archer said with an upturned nose after releasing Dwarf Shaman's ear, crossing her arms and looking indignant. This earned a beleaguered sigh from the lizardman and a pitiful groan from Dwarf Shaman, who was rubbing his injured ear.

"What kinda thinking is that?!" The dwarf demanded, but his words fell on deaf ears as High Elf Archer marched over to Goblin Slayer.

Goblin Slayer and the young priestess girl turned to face the trio of newcomers, High Elf Archer speaking first.

"So, when do we head out?" She asked, ready for an exciting adventure.

"Immediately, but I need to talk to Deathtrooper first. Governess," The man turned to face another young woman seated by herself at a table, "Where is Deathtrooper?"

The young woman looked up at him for a moment before dabbing at her lips with a handkerchief.

"Oh, good morning, Goblin Slayer. Yes, I'm doing fine, how about you?" The young woman muttered before setting down the piece of cloth. She eyed Goblin Slayer for a few more moments when the man didn't dignify her words with a response. Finally, she turned to the woman known as 'Guild Girl' and called out.

"Guild Girl, I'll be back in a few!"

"Okay, don't get lost." 'Governess' didn't respond, getting to her feet and waving for the group to follow her.

"Come on, we might catch him before he wanders off to go scare children or whatever it is he spends his days doing."

* * *

The town had come to life in the brief time High Elf Archer and company had spent inside the Guild Hall. Townsfolk and adventurers alike milled about on their business, paying the group little to no attention except to greet the three locals.

Governess led them to what looked to be an inn of sorts, leading the way inside and nodding to the owner. She walked to a room, not even bothering to knock and just barging in.

High Elf Archer blinked, taking in the only occupant of the room.

Her first though?

 _Oh, he's tall._

And that he was, the man would give even Lizard Priest a run for his money in the height department. The man was easily seven feet tall, plus some though High Elf Archer couldn't tell what the man was exactly. His armor, which seemed to shine unnaturally, was jet black. The plating didn't seem very durable, though it held cuts and scratches from battles prior.

The man turned to face the disturbance with a quirked eyebrow, his head ducked slightly to keep it from brushing the ceiling.

"Governess? You're back early." His voice was low and gravelly, matching the severe expression set into the man's face.

The aforementioned young woman shrugged, plopping herself down into the one chair in the small room. Said room was made up of a table, chair, and two beds, rather small given the man's size. The only objects in the room that seemed to belong to the duo was a set of uniforms neatly hanged next to one bed, evidently the girl's, and a heap of black bags at the foot of the other.

"Goblin Slayer was looking for you for something, I don't know." Governess said, indicating towards the group standing in the doorway.

Before she mentioned Goblin Slayer, the man High Elf Archer assumed to be 'Deathtrooper' had been studying her and her two companions with a sharp, calculating stare. It was almost as if he were sizing them up for a fight, though the moment Goblin Slayer's name was mentioned the man seemed to relax somewhat.

"Goblin Slayer," Deathtrooper said in place of a greeting, nodding to the armored adventurer. Goblin Slayer pushed past High Elf Archer, earning a glare from the small elf, and stood in front of Deathtrooper, "Work?"

"We-" High Elf Archer started, but was rather rudely interrupted by Goblin Slayer.

"Goblins, maybe a demon. Interested?" Deathtrooper paused at the other man's words, running a gloved finger over his beard.

"I've only fought one of those," Deathtrooper muttered, likely referring to the demon, "Didn't end well for me or it. What's the pay?"

"Good," Goblin Slayer, and like that three pairs of eyes were focused on.

"Err… One Thousand gold to clear the dungeon," High Elf Archer got out, rather shocked at the sudden attention. As soon as it was on her, both men were talking again.

Deathtrooper whistled lightly at the amount, turning his gaze back to Goblin Slayer.

"What's the split."

"75 to you, 25 to us." The man responded simply, as if this had been discussed and agreed upon in advance - which it most certainly had _not_ been. High Elf Archer was about to voice as much to Goblin Slayer, more in the priestess's defence, but Deathtrooper surprisingly beat her to the punch.

"And _you're_ okay with this?" Deathtrooper asked Priestess, who gave a rather amused sigh, her head cocking off to one side.

"I'm a priestess, sir Deathtrooper, I don't need very much money." Deathtrooper chuckled, a surprisingly soft sound for a man of his size and stature.

"Whatever you say, kid. Okay, I'm game. When?"

"Now." Goblin Slayer responded just as bluntly as the intimidating titan.

"Never one for a rest, eh? Okay, step out, I need to talk to Governess."

With that, High Elf Archer and company found themselves herded from the room and into the hallway, the door shutting in their collective faces.

"Well… The lads' certainly interesting." Naturally, the dwarf was the first to speak. To confused to properly formulate an insult, High Elf Archer merely muttered her agreement.

"Is everyone here a stoic slaughter-crazed weirdo?" She asked rhetorically.

"No." Goblin Slayer actually responded, earning an undignified snort from Lizard Priest.

"He is certainly… a character." Priestess agreed, "Governess likes to call him 'both clinically and criminally insane'. I don't know what those mean, but somehow I agree." Lizard Priest nodded his agreement at the assessment before turning his attention to Goblin Slayer.

"What about you, Sir Goblin Slayer? What is your assessment of this 'Deathtrooper."

"He is very good at killing goblins." Was all Goblin Slayer had to say about that. Priestess sighed, shaking her head and supporting her weight on her staff.

"I don't think there isn't _anything_ Sir Deathtrooper is _bad_ at killing. A few other adventurers claim he beat a werewolf in a fist fight."

High Elf Archer was floored by that. Perhaps it was just how fantastic the idea was, but a lone man killing a demon was easier to believe than the fact that he likely _punched a werewolf to death_. Yet, as she thought about it, the man was rather massive so perhaps it was a little understandable.

The group was not left to sit for long, as the door opened to reveal Governess.

"Try not to die," She called flippantly over her shoulder, wandering back down the hall she had led the group up.

"I won't." A deeply altered and near demonic sounding voice drew the groups' attention to the figure in the doorway.

Standing at his full height, Deathtrooper was adorned in bandoliers, a large sack, and a rather bizarre staff. The most damning change, however, was his helm, which seemed to glow with an unholy, green light that sent a shiver down High Elf Archer's back.

"Now, where are these goblins?" He asked, his voice devoid of human emotion.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Taa-daa! I'm not dead! This chapter is short, I'm sorry. It's been a WIP for… three months now?! Jesus-H-Christ, sorry about that. With school out, work had ramped up. Luckily, and in a strange turn, I'll be headed to college soon where I'll likely have the energy to write more. Huzzah!**

 **Anyways, until the next chapter.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: I own neither Goblin Slayer nor Star Wars, though I wish I did.**

* * *

 **Deathtrooper**

 **Chapter 14**

 **Adventure**

* * *

Deathtrooper, or Demonslayer, was a _strange_ man, perhaps as much so as Goblin Slayer. That much High Elf Archer soon realized when the group set out from Frontier Town.

He was less quiet, like Goblin Slayer, and more dry and sharp. For lack of a better term, the man was _sarcastic_. High Elf Archer had met soldiers in her life, though she guessed elven warriors hardly counted. The few _human_ soldiers she had encountered had this dry outlook on life, finding nothing properly serious or troublesome due to their experiences in combat. That was how Deathtrooper acted.

"Naturally," The man's voice dragged High Elf Archer from her thoughts, "The demon soon learned my death didn't agree with me… or it. Or the walls."

His words earned a chuckle from High Elf Archer's two original companions, both Priestess and Goblin Slayer evidently having heard this story in some form or another.

"You continue to impress, Sir Deathtrooper," Lizard Priest commented.

"Hardly impressive," Deathtrooper scoffed, a sound poorly translated through his helmet, "My combat effectiveness has been dirt since the moment I stepped on this… Frontier." High Elf Archer noted the man's pause and tone, though if anyone else did they failed to bring it up. Instead, Dwarf Shaman spoke incredulously at the man's claim.

"Killing a demon is hardly something to be humble about, Demonslayer."

Again, Deathtrooper scoffed and adjusted his bizarre staff.

"Please, if I had my team we would have had that demon down in a minute, maybe a minute and a half. Big, obvious, fast perhaps, but not faster than we can shoot. My captain would be disappointed that I nearly died in the first place…" The man gave a dejected sigh and shook his head as if he were just as disappointed in himself as this nebulous 'Captain' would be.

"Your 'team'?" Apparently, this had not been a subject of conversation between Deathtrooper and his usual companions, as it was Priestess that asked the question on all of their minds. It was said with some fear and wonder, a thought High Elf Archer agreed with as a team of demon-slaying soldiers would have been something to behold.

"Right, never told you about it. It was part of a strike force of other Deathtroopers, there were five of us," Surprise rippled through the group, there 'were' five of them? The surprises kept coming as the man continued unopposed, "There were… What, 300 of us last I checked? I can't remember what the official number was when I left."

The group was shocked into silence. It took a few moments for High Elf Archer to find the words, as her thoughts were alight with a legion of black-armored soldiers butchering the demon hordes.

" _Three hundred?!_ How have we never heard of you?!" The elf didn't even try to control her voice, which came out shrill and high-pitched. Though Lizard Priest and Dwarf Shaman flinched away from their companion, the sentiment was shared.

"Because we were a clandestine organization, the black hand of our Empire so to speak. At least, the last time I was there," Deathtrooper's voice was still flippant, "Course, according to a certain source the head of our organization was murdered alongside _his_ overseer, so I don't know if that's still the case."

"What…" Priestess paused, evidently unsure of what she was going to ask was appropriate or not, "What happened to your team, i-if you don't mind me asking."

"Dead," The man answered bluntly as if he were discussing the weather or anything _but_ the death of his team, "Damn lucky I didn't join them."

The team, again, was floored. Barring Goblin Slayer, it seemed, as the man showed no emotion one way or another. Priestess, for her part, paled drastically, realizing she may have strode into a touchy subject.

"I-I'm sorry, s-sir D-Deathtrooper, I… I didn't realize-"

"Don't be," The man interrupted her, "They were evil bastards… We were evil bastards. We killed a lot of people back in the day. Some deserved it, but we were more often than not used to put down political rivals of our handlers, or tasked with putting down resistance."

High Elf Archer subconsciously flinched away from Deathtrooper at his words. She had heard of this type before, soldiers-of-fortune or enforcers of a corrupt government, relishing in the task of slaughtering innocents for profit and personal gain. Elves rarely had to deal with such peoples, not because they were inherently better than humans (though High Elf Archer personally believed they were), but because elves were naturally predisposed to companionship with their race. However, it was common for the human kingdoms to utilize these butchers to ensure their power base remained stable. The people they hired lacked morals and seemed to take deep, sick joy in the act. Deathtrooper, unless High Elf Archer's reading of his tone was wrong, seemed to regret or even hate himself for what he had done prior to arriving at the Frontier.

"Did you take pleasure in your work?" Lizard Priest asked, his earlier amusement not shifting to a decidedly neutral tone. High Elf Archer recognized the priest's tactic, he was attempting to get a feel for how Deathtrooper would respond and whether they would have to watch their backs around him.

"Some did, but most of us never questioned our orders. We did as we were told."

"If you were killing innocents, as you said, then why stay with them?" Dwarf Shaman, with all the tact of a raging dragon, asked.

"Weren't offered a choice, I suppose. We were conscripted at an early age. _Director Krennic_ ," The name was said with such vitriol that High Elf Archer felt it necessary to retreat further from the black-armored man, "Decided the program would only work if children were kidnapped at an early age and trained to be absolutely loyal to the Empire and its constituents. We were brainwashed, for lack of a better term, to be the perfect killing machines. It was the minority that took pleasure in it while they did the deed."

Again, High Elf Archer had heard of such practices, but rarely did humans or even orcs stoop so low as to kidnap children to train as soldiers. Perhaps as cannon fodder should the need become desperate enough, but for the express purpose of turning them into emotionless killing-machines? From a race that saw abusing children as one of the worse crimes imaginable, High Elf Archer could barely comprehend such an act. When Priestess spoke, it was with a sentiment High Elf Archer agreed with to an extent.

"Then… Then it wasn't your choice, Sir Deathtrooper," Her voice gained a more confident edge, which was likely a significant effort given the nature of the topic at hand, "You didn't want to do what they ordered you to."

"Don't change the fact that I did it, Priestess." Deathtrooper chuckled, his tone losing some of its edge as he seemingly fell back to neutrality, "A good man does what's right even when it goes against all that he's been taught."

On that somber note, silence returned to the group as they all mulled over Deathtrooper's strangely philosophical words. High Elf Archer understood the man's plight, to an extent. Something had happened, something that caused the death of his team and the realization that he had done horrible things for a terrible empire. Here he was now, putting his supposedly vast skills to good use. There was self-loathing beneath the sarcasm and jokes, though High Elf Archer had no idea if the man was trying to get past. Her musing was, again, put to rest by his voice, which had retaken its joking tone.

"Now, you wanted to hear about me brawl with the Werewolf, right?" The man said in an attempt to return to mood to its earlier lightness, "Now, maybe it wasn't my best idea, but by that point, I was pissed, unarmed, and my companions were under threat."

And they laughed, though High Elf Archer noted with some shame that everyone now remained at arm's length from the man.

Barring, of course, Goblin Slayer.

* * *

When night fell, the group decided to make camp on a bare hill overlooking the local plains. While they collected sticks, made a campfire, and pitched some tents, High Elf Archer noted the Deathtrooper had slipped away and was wandering around the foot of the hill. Every couple meters or so, he would kneel down and feel around the grass. After a few seconds, who would rise and continue his trek.

"What is he doing?" High Elf Archer asked as she carried some sticks up the hill, squinting into the darkness at the strange, and terrifying, man. Priestess, who was also moving some sticks for burning, turned and followed High Elf Archer's gaze. Though her eye-sight was likely not as good as High Elf Archer's, she seemed to notice Deathtrooper's silhouette in the cover of night.

"Sir Deathtrooper? Oh, he's placing 'sensors' as he called them."

"Sensors?" High Elf Archer repeated. There were types of magic known as 'sensors', though none that would be any use over an extended period of time. Why would he bother setting them now, right after the sun's setting? High Elf Archer voiced as much to Priestess, who shook her head at High Elf Archer's observations.

"No, they aren't magic. Sir Deathtrooper didn't even know that magic was real prior to his near-death experience, or so he claims. They warn his helmet if anything crosses or gets near them." Priestess explained easily, evidently having asked such a question before.

"What? How do they work?" At this, Priestess just gave a dejected shrug.

"Sir Deathtrooper attempted to explain it to Goblin Slayer and me, but he was talking about something called a 'Radio Wave Transmitter' and 'sensor relays', and I really just couldn't follow it. He explained that the place he and Governess come from is a little bit more advanced than the Frontier in terms of technology." High Elf Archer, wondering if 'Radio Wave Transmitter' was, in fact, a collection of real words or merely an attempt to not reveal his secrets, blinked. She looked back over at Deathtrooper, who had finished his patrol and was rejoining the group with his staff still slung over his shoulder.

"Where are they from? Governess and Deathtrooper, I mean."

Once again, Priestess was stumped.

"They never say, though the few times they have talked about their home they describe it as if it is quite far from here." With that, Priestess made the short distance to the top of the hill in a quick jog, the others noting that the duo had stopped. High Elf Archer did not move, thinking about what she knew about the mysterious 'Deathtrooper'. He was highly competent, or so the local reports say. He was a recent addition to the Frontier, his legacy not expanding very far beyond its borders. Granted, nothing got far from the Frontier at any reasonable speed, but even the far-flung mountains of the Dwarven Lords had heard tales of Goblin Slayer.

What's more, Deathtrooper's armor was unlike anything she had ever seen. It shared some similarities to the great Rangers of the east, but this man was clearly not one of them. For one thing, the Rangers shunned magic in all forms, and though Deathtrooper carried a sword at his hip he also wielded a staff. For another, his armor was too shiny, gleaming in the sunlight and looking as if it were extremely weak and inflexible. Despite this, the man moved with the confidence befitting a vaunted 'Demon Slayer' and seemed to show no fear that ambush may affect him. Even Goblin Slayer, the man who seemed so tense in the Guild Hall and Frontier Town, relaxed more in the presence of Deathtrooper.

His armor, weapons, and mannerisms were so alien. His history was mysterious, clearly edited for their sakes and to ensure no one could track down his origins. Who was Deathtrooper, what happened to his team, and who was Governess? More importantly than all that, however, why were they in the Frontier-

"Elf! Are ya done standing around?"

"Give me a minute! Damn dwarf…" Her train of thought thrown asunder, High Elf Archer stormed up the hill to rejoin the company.

* * *

Once the group was settled, they sat around the campfire, a stew frothing and boiling before them. The group laughed and jest, except Goblin Slayer of course. Deathtrooper had removed his helmet, which was seated beside him on the grass in all its sinister glory. Without the intimidating face of his helmet glaring down at them, the entire group felt more at ease when speaking to the man. The stories of his past still hung heavy in their minds, but it was remarkable hard not to like the man as he spoke. There was a brusqueness to him that was as endearing as it was embarrassing at times. In a sense, High Elf Archer could see why Goblin Slayer would be more at ease around the man, for they were similar in a sense. Blunt and to the point, but where Goblin Slayer was closed off, Deathtrooper was almost _too_ open. Boundaries did not exist to the man it seemed, and while he had the social sense to avoid what others deem as horribly inappropriate, Deathtrooper continuously made statements outlandish and bizarre.

His dark goatee gave the man an almost wizened look, and though his eyes held a certain sharpness to them, they were alight with mirth as he recounted a rather innuendo-laden story told to him by one of his compatriots, one he seemed to completely misunderstand the point of.

"What... _colorful_ people you party with, Sir Deathtrooper." Lizard Priest's tone more or less conveyed the feelings of the three representatives from the coalition, a sentiment shared by Priestess.

"Indeed. Female Knight and Heavy Warrior are certainly… _characters._ " Deathtrooper, evidently missing the tone and connotations, merely nodded in response returned to the work of polishing his already gleaming staff. They were saved from an awkward silence as Lizard Priest checked the meat he had cooking alongside the greater stew.

"All done!" He announced, spearing each of them with sticks and creating kebabs.

"So what made all of you want to be adventurers?" High Elf Archer asked, realizing she had not asked her former original members this question yet.

"To sample the world's great cuisine, of course!" Dwarf Shaman announced proudly as he accepted a kebab from Lizard Priest, "What of you, long ears?"

"I wanted to see the world," High Elf Archer explained with a sweeping gesture of her hand and a gleam in her eyes, "To experience all it had to offer!" This earned laughter from the 'more experienced' members of the party, and Deathtrooper. The elf pouted, slightly hurt that they found her reason funny in some way.

As Priestess handed out her bean soup, Lizard Priest spoke of his reasoning.

"I wish to purge the land of heresy until I become higher in stature," He explained, enjoying a bit of his swamp-meat kebab, "This is all for the end-goal of becoming a Naga. What of you?"

His question was directed towards Priestess, who was knelt before the flickering fire with a bowl in her lap.

"Oh… Uh, a religious motive. The same for me," She explained, sounding slightly bashful in doing so.

"Purely mercenary for me, I'm afraid," Deathtrooper stated, bringing his staff up to his eye and looking down the length of it before setting into another unseen speck of dust, "Man of my skills would be wasted on a farm, so I took up the adventuring job."

"Mercenary? I thought you were an Adventurer?" High Elf Archer demanded, bristling somewhat. Even Dwarf Shaman and Lizard Priest eyed Deathtrooper with slightly sharper glares. Priestess, not that High Elf Archer could much blame her, seemed rather confused and concerned at the sudden shift.

There was a lot of animosity between Mercenaries and Adventurers for a multitude of reasons, though the Merc Guilds hadn't really spread into the Frontier. They typically worked as contract killers for the inner kingdoms and council, they were the sort that took great pleasure in taking innocent life. They were bandits that worked for the royals and were no better than their criminal counterparts. The difference was, Mercenaries were _legal_. Adventurers prided themselves on their honor and saw the Mercenaries as borderline criminals. High Elf Archer was one such adventurer and was more agitated when Deathtrooper seemingly missed their ire.

"There's a difference?" The man asked absently, "Seem the same to me. Kill, get paid, repeat."

Lizard Priest, evidently understanding what was going on, relaxed some and waved to his companions to calm down.

"I see the issue. You must truly be foreign to this continent, Sir Deathtrooper, if you do not of the bad blood between the Mercenaries and Adventurers." And so Lizard Priest explained the difference between the two to the soldier, who showed perhaps the barest glint of interest.

"Sound like a pleasant sort," Deathtrooper drawled, setting his weapon down and tucking into the soup he had left alone during the duration of the political lesson.

"They were once adventurers," Lizard Priest said, "But decided to get more pay at the cost of morals."

"Huh," Deathtrooper cocked his head and stroked his goatee, "Guess I'm more a soldier-of-fortune, then."

"That's even worse!" High Elf Archer exclaimed but was silenced from a sharp glare from Lizard Priest.

"I think we must accept, High Elf Archer, that there are inherent cultural differences between us. I am certain mercenaries and soldiers-of-fortune are not as horrible in Sir Deathtrooper's land as they are here, are they?"

"You're fishing, Lizard Priest," Deathtrooper warned before answering anyway, "They're a mixed bag back home. Some are good, others are bad. They're people, kind of the case with them all."

"An apt point, and one I find myself agreeing with, Sir Deathtrooper," And likely to stop any more argument, Lizard Priest addressed the last of their company, "And you, Sir Goblin Slayer? What drove you to become an adventurer?"

"I wanted to slay goblins." Was the deadpan answer, earning sighs from Priestess and Deathtrooper.

"I coulda told you that." Deathtrooper chuckled, shaking his head at the antics of their stoic companion, "No simpler a man than Goblin Slayer."

"Killing goblins isn't simple," Goblin Slayer said, "It requires tact."

"That's not what I… You know, nevermind. Never change, Goblin Slayer."

"I see."

The three newest members of the group shared a glance, wondering if this was a normal interaction between the three.

"Demon Slayer, I've been meanin' to ask," Dwarf Shaman spoke up, addressing the man in black armor, "We've been hearing a lot of rumors about you out towards the border. Do you really have an elven sword?"

For a moment, the man seemed confused. After it passed, the blade sitting on his hip from its holster. High Elf Archer wasn't all that knowledgable about the weapons of old, she had always found history dull and uninteresting, but even she could tell the glowing, almost ethereal blade was special.

"By my beard!" Dwarf Shaman exclaimed, gazing at the sword with such reverence you might have thought it were a god itself. He moved forward to get a closer look, his bearded face illuminated by the dull blue light that seemed to emanate of the ancient blade.

"May I?" He asked, holding out a hand towards the hilt. Seeming confused, Deathtrooper handed the blade over. Dwarf Shaman held the weapon, one hand wrapped around the embroidered handle and the other flat against the blade itself.

"This is… a special weapon, Demon Slayer. A _very_ special weapon." Dwarf Shaman held the sword close to his face as he seemed to study something along the flat of the blade. High Elf Archer tried to make out what the dwarf was reading, but he had it held so close to his face that his beard obscured it for all attempted viewings.

"Elf, can you read old elvish?" Dwarf Shaman demanded, looking up at her with the single most intense look High Elf Archer thought that he had ever made in their short companionship. She puffed up at the insinuation she wouldn't.

"Of course, give it here!" Old elvish was the original Elven language before they started using the regional standard, created by man as the one language all the main races could speak. While it had fallen as wide usage, it was basically mandatory for High Elves to learn it before leaving for the wide world. Most ancient forts and texts favored the old tongue heavily, and as such adventurers needed to know it.

When High Elf Archer accepted the weapon, expecting it to be heavy and unwieldy as she had felt when it came to most other swords. Much to her surprise, however, the weapon was light and maneuverable, despite its length. High Elf Archer took a moment to adjust it, finding the inscribed words rather easily. It was a short script, though its handwriting was eloquent and still clear despite the weapons supposed age.

"It says… 'Fear yee, daemons of Raevon, enemies of Sarti'... Who, or what is Raevon?" High Elf Archer asked, recognizing the name 'Sarti' as one of the ancient Elven gods before the unification of the gods during the early days of the council.

"Ah, now that is an old one," Lizard Priest nodded slowly, eyeing the ancient weapon. It was of fine craftsmanship, even High Elf Archer could tell that. From the curvature of its blade to the gleaming handguard.

"Raevon was a Demon Lord from many millennia ago, said to have been defeated by an alliance of all the races. From man to elves, to the great dragons of the north, to goblins." At this, Goblin Slayer stiffened, "Of course, that's just the legend. I don't see all those groups working together."

When Goblin Slayer relaxed again the entire group laughed.

Soon, the night devolved when Dwarf Shaman revealed his dwarven liquor. High Elf Archer didn't remember much of what occurred come the following morning, but whatever it was seemed deeply amusing to Deathtrooper and Dwarf Shaman.

* * *

"Ya can't really hold your liquor, can you long ears?" Dwarf Shaman chuckled as High Elf Archer stomped alongside the group, fighting a raging headache and a growing urge to kick Dwarf Shaman into a river.

"I don't remember what happened last night, but something tells me I wouldn't find it nearly as amusing as you." The elf growled, scowling at her stout companion while applying pressure to her throbbing head. High Elf Archer's ire only earned her a great laugh from Dwarf Shaman. She made to retort, but both were silenced by the harsh and commanding voice of Deathtrooper.

"Stow it," The man snapped in a harsh whisper as he knelt at the end of the bushes, looking up a hill at something unseen by the group. Their answer came in the form of his next words, "Three hostiles, front. At the cave entrance."

The team gathered around Deathtrooper, spotting the 'hostiles'. Two goblins stood guard alongside a slumbering Dire Wolf. They seemed weak enough, but the way Goblin Slayer and Deathtrooper were speaking it was as if these goblins were demons.

"I can't drop them all before at least one raises the alarm. I'm a fast shot, but a hundred plus meters is a hundred plus meters." Deathtrooper said, shouldering his staff and staring down the length of it, as one might with a crossbow. Goblin Slayer, knelt at the side of Deathtrooper, was holding what looked to be a pair of shortened telescopes to his eyes.

"It's day time, there are probably no more sentries."

"It's the 'probably' that gets me, Boss. Could have more hidden in the cave. I can't tell at this range, the sun is playing silly-buggers with my night vision."

"No Shaman totems." Goblin Slayer countered, seeming to play the voice of argument to Deathtrooper's ideas.

High Elf Archer, on the other hand, was floored. These two skilled, and she hated to admit it but intimidating, men were playing strategy in regards to _goblins_. More than that, they were speaking with complete _seriousness_. It was a sudden shift, especially with Deathtrooper who seemed to have a joking nature most times, but didn't detract from the fact that it was so bizarre.

"Big nest, there has to be a centralized leadership."

"Hob?"

"I'm thinking bigger, and if that's the case then I'm glad I brought some detonators."

"S-Sir Deathtrooper, can you please not bring the entire fortress down on us?" Priestess interrupted, seeming to follow what the duo was saying. Deathtrooper waved her away, still watching the goblins from behind his bizarre helmet.

"We'll be safe. It's a last-ditch weapon if everything goes south. We'll flank, take the guards from the sides and pincer whatever is inside. Goblin Slayer and I will flank right. Elf, you and the lizard go left and- _What are you doing?!_ " The last part came out as a harsh hiss, not that it stopped High Elf Archer. She had risen and nocked an arrow all in one smooth movement. Gauging the distance between herself and the goblins before drawing back and loosing an arrow. To the untrained eye, it went extremely wide, a point voiced by Dwarf Shaman as it seemed Deathtrooper was either watching the arrow's travel or fuming.

"You _missed?!_ " The dwarf demanded, High Elf Archer did not dignify the question with an answer. The arrow twisted, now seemingly redirecting towards the goblins. The first, which also noticed the arrow and was watching its progress quickly noticed _where_ it was going now. Before it could raise the alarm, the arrow shot through its head. The second cried out before it, too, fell, leaving just the Dire Wolf. The sudden cry had roused it, making the wolf raise its head right into the path of the still flying arrow. The wolf let out a short bark before flopping back down among its masters.

"Huh, I take that back. Good shot." Dwarf Shaman commented, sounding genuinely impressed. Smirking to herself and flashing Deathtrooper and confident look, High Elf Archer rose to her feet and broke cover, headed straight to the entrance.

"... Or we can rush the front and figure it out from there. I'll sweep right, you two sweep left and…" Whatever else Deathtrooper had to say High Elf Archer wouldn't know as she passed beyond her immediate earshot of the man. Granted, as an elf, she could have still heard him, but High Elf Archer chose not to. Slayer of demons or not, it was a matter of principle to never take goblins seriously.

High Elf Archer came to a stop next to the dead goblins and their canine companion. She peered into the dim of the fortress, spying no other traps or guards. It went down steadily, not deviating before it became too dark for High Elf Archer to see any further.

A minute or two passed before Deathtrooper broke cover on side of the entrance, his weapon raised and aimed towards the entrance. Goblin Slayer and Lizard Priest appeared opposite of him, the latter bemused but still following along likely out of respect of the two men.

Deathtrooper stopped at the entrance, peering in for a few moments before settling back.

"Clear, it goes fifty, sixty meters until two turn-offs," Deathtrooper said, speaking to Goblin Slayer and Lizard Priest before waving in the direction of the last of their company. High Elf Archer was slightly impressed he could see in that darkness, a feat ever her elven eyes struggled to achieve.

"No other sentries?" Goblin Slayer asked, kneeling at the sides of the goblins and gathering their rusted, ancient weapons. Deathtrooper cocked his head from one side to the other before responding.

"No, from the looks. This doesn't make sense, a force this large can't be operating without intelligent leadership."

"I think you're giving them too much credit." High Elf Archer deadpanned.

"Goblins are dangerous, elf. Maybe not alone, but in a group, they can overwhelm even the most skilled team. That's why I want this done by the books, I've got no idea what's down there and something tells me you don't either," Deathtrooper turned to face High Elf Archer, "You've got the skill, but not the experience. Boss, put them through the usual song and dance, I'll scout ahead."

High Elf Archer, who was significantly older than the human, made to retort. Alas, he was already gone.

"Stupid…" She muttered a number of other unladylike things under her breath. Alas, Deathtrooper's antics were the least of her worries as High Elf Archer was silenced by Goblin Slayer brutalizing the corpse of one goblin with its own knife.

"What are you doing?! I know you hate them, but…" High Elf Archer recoiled, a hand shooting to her mouth as she fought down the rising bile.

"Goblins have an excellent sense of smell," Goblin Slayer said plainly, using a handkerchief to wipe up the resulting gore from his impromptu attempt at surgery, "Especially for women and elves."

It took High Elf Archer several moments to realize what the man meant. She retreated, gagging in disgust at what Goblin Slayer was was intending to do.

"Y-You can't! That's disgusting!" High Elf Archer cried, hugging her arms close to herself as Goblin Slayer rose. Turning, she sought help in her comrades. There was no assistance from that corner, as while Lizard Priest and Dwarf Shaman were repulsed they seemed to understand the necessity.

Priestess had a resigned expression, her eyes devoid of either disgust or fear.

"You get used to it."

* * *

With the assistance of Goblin Slayer's torch and a cone of light emanating from Deathtrooper's staff, the group was able to move through the fortress without fearing ambush from any unseen side paths.

Not that High Elf Archer much appreciated that, given her current state. Dwarf Shaman had the decency to not comment on her predicament, Deathtrooper was not of the same mind, however.

"At least you look that part now," Deathtrooper said after giving the elf a once over. Before she could retort, he was addressing Goblin Slayer.

"The hallway was clear. One side heads down deeper into the fortress and the other looped around, where is unknown."

"No traps?"

"Just one, a pressure plate of sorts. Right side at the end of the hall."

So there the group was, moving at a cautious pace despite High Elf Archer's presently agitated state. She, albeit hesitantly, admitted she blended in with the general smell of the fortress, though that was small condolence. It made High Elf Archer ill to her core, and she couldn't wait to exact her vengeance upon everyone involved.

"No goblins would set traps like this," Goblin Slayer noted when they reached the pressure plate in question.

"I'll say. I wouldn't have noticed it if you never warned us, Demon Slayer." Dwarf Shaman commented, kneeling so he could get a better look at the panel in question. High Elf Archer huffed, _she_ had seen it…

"The coloration is off, and the platform is two and some millimeters off," Deathtrooper explained, tapping the side of his helmet, "Still no totems, though."

"No Shaman…" Goblin Slayer agreed with a solemn nod, glancing at the many runes and writing on the walls, long since made unintelligible with time.

"No magic caster, that has to be good for us, then?" High Elf Archer said with a roll of her eyes, her disgust tempered somewhat by amusement.

"It seems the absence of a Shaman is your concern, Sir Goblin Slayer."

"A leader higher on the chain, then?" Deathtrooper asked, "Goblin Champion?"

"Too dull," Goblin Slayer disagreed with a shake of his head, "I would have heard about a Lord before now." Deathtrooper gave a solemn nod.

"Female Knight would have Heavy Warrior and me here first thing if that were the case." Deathtrooper chuckled, leaving a moment of silence as the group thought on their conundrum.

"You said you've dealt with large nests before, Sir Goblin Slayer," Lizard Priest said, "What did you do then?"

"Smoked them out. Set them on fire. Drowned them in a river." Goblin Slayer listed, Deathtrooper jumping in at the end.

"Bringing the entire building down on their heads. Leading a pack of Dire Wolves into their caverns. Even brought some White Phosphorus if they built their nest in a closed-off area." Deathtrooper patted a pair of canisters on his hip as he spoke. High Elf Archer felt a newfound feeling of disgust, it was almost as if Deathtrooper and Goblin Slayer made a game out of finding the most brutal way to exterminate goblins. Her thoughts were compounded when Priestess spoke with a dejected tone.

"Please don't, Sir Deathtrooper. It took some time to wash the smell from my robes." The young girl pleaded, her face falling at the chuckle from Deathtrooper.

"The smell builds character, Priestess. Plus it did hide your smell for a week."

High Elf Archer's heart went out to the poor Priestess, who had to deal with these two morons for gods knew how long. Taking the moment to extend her hearing, she sensed no goblins or lifeforms nearby. Voicing as much, the group deliberated on their next move.

"Their main hideout is left," Dwarf Shaman stated after a couple of moments studying the brick floor.

"How do you figure that?" Deathtrooper asked, peering down at the floor as well. High Elf Archer joined the duo, seeing no obvious differences. Dwarf Shaman pointed to a seemingly random stone and jerked his finger left.

"Traffic takes a right from this direction, rarely do they go forwards."

"You're sure?" High Elf Archer asked incredulously. Dwarf Shaman scoffed and put his hands on his hips.

"I'm a dwarf! We are experts on all things stone, metal, and alcohol."

"I see…" Goblin Slayer responded, drawing Deathtrooper's attention.

"What's the call, boss?" The man asked, deligating the decision to Goblin Slayer. With little more than a nod, Goblin Slayer led the way down the _right_ passage.

"What? Why? The goblins are this way." High Elf Archer indicated down the passage to the left, but Goblin Slayer wasn't biting.

"We have to go this way or it will be too late." Was what the enigmatic man said, earning a sharp glace from Deathtrooper.

"Ah hell, this is going to be a messy day…" Deathtrooper growled, unslinging his staff from his back and shouldering it once more. This concerned High Elf Archer more than the traps and gore currently coating her skin and clothing.

"Throw us a bone here, Orcbolg. What's going on?" Neither man responded, though Priestess seemed distinctly sickened by whatever the group was talking about.

The group reached a door at the end of the hallway, a horrid stench rising from behind it. It was worse than even that which stuck to Priestess and High Elf Archer. Lizard Priest and High Elf Archer, due to their more sensitive senses of smell, recoiled at the stench. Priestess and Dwarf Shaman merely plugged their noses and held their breath, seeming ill to a lesser extent. Neither Deathtrooper nor Goblin Slayer seemed to notice, though. They came to stop at the door, staring at it in silence.

"What is this stench… What's in there?" High Elf Archer demanded, glaring at the two men through teary eyes.

"Breathe through your nose. You'll get used to it soon." Goblin Slayer ordered over his shoulder before nodding to Deathtrooper. The massive man knelt in front of the door and pulled from one of his many bandoliers a small, worm-like object. He stuck it under the door and grew still. Before anyone could ask what he was doing, the man held up two fingers.

"Hostile and hostage, front. Maybe ten meters." High Elf Archer's blood ran cold, there was a _survivor_.

"What are we waiting for, then?" She demanded, making for the door. She was stopped by Lizard Priest of all people, who seemed content with letting the 'experts' on the matter take the lead.

"No others are visible, but there is a lot of… _mess_ in there." Deathtrooper stated, looking up at Goblin Slayer.

"You have a plan?"

"I go left, you sweep left. Wait for me to take the shot and dispatch the obvious goblin."

"Very well." With a nod, Deathtrooper finally addressed the group as a whole.

"Don't group up. If there is a Shaman, I'd rather not have half of us get obliterated in one go. Don't move in until Goblin Slayer and I are through the door. Lizard and elf come first, then you two."

Without waiting for confirmation, Deathtrooper placed the small, wiry object in its container and kicked the door in. Like the roar of thunder, the wood splintered and the hinges shattered. They flew into the room like shrapnel, but that was not the brunt of Deathtrooper's assault. Leveling his great staff, the three unfamiliar members jumped when it _roared_. A single bolt of crimson hurtled faster than the eye could follow, illuminating the room as it went.

What High Elf Archer saw could barely be put into words. The room looked like the sight of an explosion, pieces of rubble and bodies littering ever inch of its circular interior.

Despite her horror, High Elf Archer's eyes followed the path of that glittering bolt as it hurtled towards the only visible occupant of the room: an elf woman. Before her mind could really comprehend what was happening, the bolt slid past the woman and into the face of an unseen goblin.

Deathtrooper and Goblin Slayer were already moving before the bolt had even gotten halfway across the room. The moved with the efficiency and confidence expected of their job, seeming unmoved or unfazed by the piles of bodies that were once _living creatures_. Devoid of human emotion or compassion, but that would be a thought for a later day. For the time being, High Elf Archer was focused on that elf, for she had noticed something.

The other elf was _alive_.


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: I do not own Goblin Slayer or Star Wars.**

* * *

 **Deathtrooper**

 **Chapter 15**

 **Understanding**

* * *

She hated them, more than the demons or the most wretched man had to offer. Looking at her battered, defiled kin, High Elf Archer could feel only an indescribable hatred for all Goblinkind. She wanted to make them suffer for their actions, to realize the folly of their ways. She wanted to see to the deaths of each and every one of them, with her bare hands if she could. Imagining, for a moment, if her sisters were in the position of the nameless elf only served to fill the elf with more burning rage.

She could not formulate her words into decipherable words or sounds, a shock for a race as emotionally adept as hers. High Elf Archer just couldn't understand why something that was _alive_ , that was not a demon, could be so vile and vicious. She knew she had been sheltered, but why had no one warned her of the horrors creatures like goblins were capable of? Orcs at least had the decency to kill their prisoners outright, tender mercy compared to… _this_.

She watched in shocked silence as Deathtrooper waved away Priestess, speaking harshly and much like one would expect the legendary Deathtrooper to sound.

"Negative. We'll need those miracles for what's ahead. I can apply basic first aid, but someone will have to run her to the nearest temple." Deathtrooper ordered, pulling off his helmet and revealing his face once more. Gone was the jovial, mocking smile or the bright eyes, replaced now by a mask just as intimidating as his helmet. In an instant, High Elf Archer realized what that clerk girl had meant about this man being a weapon. Outside of combat, he was as alive, in a very awkward and blunt way, like the rest of them. Here, in the depths of enemy territory, however? He was little more than an automaton, a being dedicated to the act of killing.

Priestess sent Goblin Slayer a worried look, but the man merely agreed with Deathtrooper's prognosis with a nod. Priestess dipped her head and retreated back to High Elf Archer, comforting to elf once again. For that, High Elf Archer was thankful, it helped her control her anger and shock if only a little.

"I can handle that," Lizard Priest responded, stepping forward and pulling free bones from his bag, "I can summon a construct to carry her to the nearest town."

"Good, give me five and she'll be ready to move," Deathtrooper said, removing his gauntlets and gloves. With sure and confident moves, Deathtrooper cleaned his hands and began applying a strange, blue salve to the most vicious cuts and wounds on the elf. The majority of which was on her right, as if the goblins took some sadistic pleasure in disfiguring only one side.

High Elf Archer only silently watched as the man worked, not really hearing the hushed conversation of her compatriots. In a way, she understood now Deathtrooper's warnings and Goblin Slayer's immense hatred about goblins. Deathtrooper saw them as a proper threat, and Goblin Slayer seemed to have developed, at some point, a distinct disdain for the monsters. What had the done to wrong the man so much? High Elf Archer didn't know, and quite frankly she was afraid to ask.

"Ready, do it." Deathtrooper rose from the elf, staring down at his work with an empty expression whilst cleaning his hands of her blood. In an instant, his armor returned and so did his foreign and mysterious aura.

Lizard Priest ran through a quick chant, throwing down bones from a creature unknown to High Elf Archer. Rising from a swirling vortex of bright magic, the skeleton of a lizardman rose with its slouching posture.

"I wrote a letter, it explains everything," Priestess, ever the caring soul, said as she offered the quickly scribbled note to Lizard Priest. With a nod of thanks, the lizardman turned the letter over to his construct.

"Go, warrior," He ordered as it gathered the elf in its skeletal arms, "My Dragontooth Warrior should be able to reach the nearest village soon."

Goblin Slayer, who had begun digging into a rucksack likely belonging to one of the many cadavers in the room, rose and held a loosely rolled up piece of parchment.

"There was a map in this rucksack. It must have belonged to the elf." The man said simply, tossing the map to Deathtrooper. As the black-armored man unrolled it and quickly skimmed the contents, Goblin Slayer continued, "There's a gallery to the left. You judged right."

"What, didn't believe me?" Dwarf Shaman asked, likely trying back some of the former levity and failing miserably. He too seemed unused to the horrors goblins and their ilk was capable of.

"I did, but it's good to be sure."

"That doesn't solve our new problem," Deathtrooper growled, holding up the roughly drawn map for all to see, "Its a chokepoint all the way to the main atrium. If the goblins know we're here, we'll be fighting an uphill battle."

"The goblins will attempt to wait for us to pass. They wouldn't be foolish enough to attack us from the front." Goblin Slayer responded, redirecting his walking towards High Elf Archer.

"You say that like it's a good thing, boss."

Goblin Slayer didn't dignify the man's words with a response, instead stopping a few paces from High Elf Archer and tossing the rucksack to her feet.

"You take it." He said before addressing the group as a whole, "Let's go."

"Negative," Deathtrooper's gruff voice returned, the man having slipped the now rolled-up map into his own rucksack. He walked up to Goblin Slayer and lowered his voice to little more than a whisper, a surprising feat given his helmet's natural volume.

"She's emotionally compromised. We can't take her."

Though the others seemed to miss the man's words, High Elf Archer felt her blood run cold and her rage return full force. How _dare_ he say-

"She comes." Goblin Slayer responded evenly, not bothering to lower his voice and staring directly up into the empty eyes of Deathtrooper's helmet.

"She could be a liability. Alert the goblins before we're ready." The man's voice returned to his usual volume, making to show to even attempt at hiding his harsh words. High Elf Archer narrowed her eyes but still did not trust herself to speak.

"She comes." Goblin Slayer repeated. Both men remained silent, staring at one another and having a battle of wills. The silences took several moments, but eventually, Deathtrooper seemed to retreat.

"It's your OP, boss. If that's what you want."

"It is."

"Fine, but if things go wrong then don't expect me to pull any punches."

At this, Priestess jumped to High Elf Archer's defense, further endearing the young woman to the distraught and increasingly enraged elf.

"S-Sir Deathtrooper, that isn't fair-"

But it was High Elf Archer was the one to cut off the young woman, rising to her feet and taking up her bow.

"No, it's fine. He's right, I could be a threat to the quest. I'll be fine, let's go." She would take out her anger on the goblins now, and Deathtrooper later. Goblin Slayer gave a swift nod, unsheathing the sword at his hip.

"We have goblins to hunt," The man agreed.

* * *

High Elf Archer moved swiftly across the catwalk overlooking the hallway between the entrance and the gallery. Nocking an arrow, she brought one of the guards into her sights. With a steady breath, she loosed the arrow and watched with bitter pleasure as it pierced the monster's eye and flew out the other end. With a gasp, it collapsed backward unto the cold concrete.

The rest of the team moved swiftly, but carefully, now far behind. They had abandoned the torch, meaning High Elf Archer and Deathtrooper were the only eyes.

Well, that was the idea, the latter had vanished into the shadows. Deathtrooper moved quietly for a man his size, and High Elf Archer could only spot the signs of his being somewhere. A goblin with a snapped neck, or one with abrasions around its neck as if someone used a rope to strangle it.

Loathe though she was to admit it, High Elf Archer recognized the man's talent for stealth. It was clear the legends surrounding him were, at least not completely, unearned.

Lost in thought as she was, High Elf Archer nearly missed a glint of steel in the shadows of a column on the main floor. Turning her head, she sucked in a gasp as the sneering visage of a goblin looked up at her. It had its crossbow raised and was making to fire when, suddenly, a black shadow passed over its neck. The creature's unhuman eyes widened as it gasped, dropping the crossbow in its desperation to pry at whatever was strangling the life out of it. Another shadowed hand shot down and caught the weapon before it could meet the ground.

Watching in a disgustedly curious manner, High Elf Archer watched Deathtrooper emerge from the shadows, goblin in one hand and crossbow in the other. Just by tightening his grip, he crushed the goblin's windpipe and spine, killing it instantly. With care equal to how had approached, the man placed the body back down in the shadow of its former cover.

Evidently noticing High Elf Archer, or maybe just acknowledging her existence, Deathtrooper indicating further down the hall as a sign they should keep moving. High Elf Archer nodded, hesitant to follow the man's orders given her growing disdain for him. She had to admit, however, he certainly made good on the name 'weapon' and 'butcher'.

As suddenly as he appeared, Deathtrooper melted back into the shadows to continue his silent work. High Elf Archer tried to find the tell-tale glint of his helmet's green 'lights', but alas they too seemed to vanish. With a defeated sigh, the elf continued her trek along the upper levels of the hall, dispatching of goblins as they appeared.

This continued for some time, the few guards showing no resistance to the phantoms that haunted their patrols and hid just beyond their lines of sight.

Perhaps there were very few guards, but High Elf Archer only found five more goblins before Goblin Slayer called for the group to stop. Her bruised ego refused to even toy with the idea that Deathtrooper was just that efficient at his job.

High Elf Archer dropped down to join the group, sitting a little way away. Deathtrooper materialized a few paces from the group, his normal weapon and the looted crossbow on his back.

"How many spells do you have left?" Goblin Slayer asked Priestess, sitting with his back to the wall and acknowledging Deathtrooper with little more than a nod.

"I still have all three," The young woman responded.

"For myself, three more. As the Dragontoother Warriors require these catalysts," He held up the bone fragments from earlier for all to see, "I can summon one more."

While Dwarf Shaman stated he had four or five spells left, priestess approached High Elf Archer with a water flask.

"Do you want a drink?" The nervous young woman asked, "I-If you're up for it, of course…"

High Elf Archer offered her the kindest smile she could manage, quite a feat given her current emotional state. She accepted the flask and made to drink with the familiar monotone voice of Goblin Slayer spoke up.

"Don't overfill your stomach. It'll slow the flow of your blood." The man warned. Priestess once again jumped to High Elf Archer's defense, looking indignant despite her clear nervousness.

"Goblin Slayer! B-Be a little more…"

"He has a point. We need everyone ready. Something is… _wrong_." All eyes turned to Deathtrooper, who had his helmet off and tucked under his arm.

" _Wrong?_ " Dwarf Shaman asked incredulously, his eyebrow rising as he lowered his flask.

"These goblins have been too organized," The man growled, "That, and _this_ isn't normal."

With that, Deathtrooper unsheathed his sword to reveal its blade to everyone. High Elf Archer blinked before looking away, her eyes struggling to adjust to the sudden light. Deathtrooper's point was made, however. While his sword had _seemed_ to glow in the moonlight, it was doing so quite literally now. Its dull blue filled the area with light better than any torch. Like that, the light was gone, the sword was resheathed.

"It had never done that. Not against goblins, not against orcs, nor against people, not even against magic users. There is something down there that is making whatever residual magic in this sword glow."

A tense silence fell over the group, none of them daring to voice the creeping fears that had taken hold in their minds. An ancient sword, an eleven one no less, would have enchantments the likes of which had long since been lost to time. Why those enchantments were reacting only now, when they were chasing the lead on a mysterious goblin leader, served as a foreboding message to them all.

Finally, it was Goblin Slayer that roused the group.

"I see. In that case, let's go."

"And tread carefully." Deathtrooper agreed, pulling his helmet back on with a low hiss. With that, the duo continued on down the path, making brisk headway towards the gallery. High Elf Archer glared after them, the feeling of disdain not subsiding.

"Never have I seen even a dwarf locked on to one goal such as Goblin Slayer." High Elf Archer jumped and sent a sharp glance towards Dwarf Shaman, who had approached whilst she was unaware.

"Deep breaths, long ears, don't go heating Beardcutter. Goblins are no friends of dwarves either. They will pay for what they've done."

High Elf Archer sighed, loathe though she was to admit she found the dwarf's words comforting in any sense. After a moment, she realized the shaman had left out a distinct name in her 'don't hate' warning.

"Are you saying it is okay to hate Deathtrooper, then?"

Dwarf Shaman laughed, it was a relieved, jolly sound that High Elf Archer had shaken some of her angst to crack a joke, weak though it was.

"By all means. Even I do a little, but something tells me the man is used to it." High Elf Archer couldn't stop herself, she gave a genuine chuckle at the words of her stout companion. With a disbelieving shake of her head, High Elf Archer rose to her feet and returned her bow to her hand.

"Though I hate to admit I am comforted by the words of a dwarf, you're right. I'm sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about, High Elf Archer," This earned the elf a confused look, as this was the first time he had ever referred to her by her title, "This has been a trying time for us all… Barring those two, of course. Come, we don't want to be left behind."

* * *

The group arrived in the gallery, a titanic room that seemed to go up indefinitely. For a moment, High Elf Archer allowed herself to wonder how deep beneath the surface they were. That thought was short, however, for there was a job to do.

"They must be down there, I'll check." High Elf Archer told the group, creeping over to the edge of the catwalk they had entered on and peering down at the ground floor.

It was a ruin, tables, and chairs shattered from years of disuse and abuse from the goblins. One of the titanic columns had collapsed inwards and lay diagonally across the circular room. That was not what concerned High Elf Archer, as much as it hurt to see such an ancient and important fortress left to rot as such.

No, it was the horde of goblins below that made her blood run cold and the anger from before snap angrily once again.

"What's there?" Goblin Slayer's brusque, and now unnaturally quiet, tone came from High Elf Archer's left. She noted the man with little more than a glance but jumped when she realized Deathtrooper had appeared silently to her right.

"Just what it looks like… They are all still asleep. Quick count, maybe fifty."

"They aren't the biggest concern anymore," Deathtrooper growled, retreating a few paces and standing so as to be hidden from the bottom floor.

"Goblins are always a concern." Came Goblin Slayer's deadpan response, a sentiment High Elf Archer had been appreciating more and more with each passing minute.

"I know, they just aren't the _biggest_." The man pulled a small, grey ball from his bandolier, fiddling with it for a few moments until it began to glow with a small, blue light. Then, without any warning, the man hurled the ball with all his might into the pit. High Elf Archer stopped a gasp, what was the moron doing?! He was going to wake up the entire horde and-

Then the ball stopped mid-flight, floating with the help of an unseen power. It spun, slowly, counter-clockwise and continued its slow blinking. After several seconds of this, it began to descend once more, though far slower than something in freefall should have been capable of. Finally, it came to rest next to a particularly fat goblin before soundlessly rolling beneath a table.

"Fifty-three to be exact. Two on the floor above us, an extra sleeping behind the column below us. Fifty in the main group. There is a fifty-fourth unidentified target down that tunnel, towards the atrium I figure."

High Elf Archer gave the man an incredulous look, disbelieving that his bizarre orb could find, with such accuracy, the location of the hitherto unseen enemy. She voiced as much to Deathtrooper, who despite his recently abrasive behavior responded calmly and respectfully.

"That ball is the LR-21 Recon Droid, a successor to an earlier model. It sends a feed to my helmet and shows be the immediate area within a hundred kilometers or so. It also sends a movement pulse, to warn me of any _unseen_ hostiles."

At High Elf Archer's blank look, the man shook his head and cleared his throat.

"Err… Sorry. Suffice it to say I can see whatever it sees."

"Oh…" It did little to help High Elf Archer understand the object, thusfar the man had showcased no grasp on magic, despite his staff. He seemed more a ranger or assassin, not a mage capable of such specialized magic. Perhaps whoever Deathtrooper worked for previously had an enchanter under their employ?

"What's the plan, boss?" Deathtrooper asked Goblin Slayer, setting his staff up on the edge of the catwalk and peering down its scope, "I can take out a good amount from up here, but many will get up the stairs. That'll warn whatever is in the atrium, too."

"I see… Take care of the two above. We will deal with the rest."

High Elf Archer was surprised when Deathtrooper answered without hesitation.

"Consider it done." With that, the massive man got to his feet and moved a brisk, yet silent, pace around the catwalk, likely in search of a way up.

"So…" High Elf Archer started, turning her attention back towards the now silent Goblin Slayer, "What's your plan?"

* * *

Goblin Slayer's plan, as it turned out, was to utilize a spell each from Priestess and Dwarf Shaman. The first placed a silencing miracle over the entire group of goblins, ensuring none of them could raise the alarm as Dwarf Shaman did his work. Dwarf Shaman's miracle was a distinctly dwarven one, it required him spewing alcohol over the entire room, which was supposed to ensure the goblins remained in a deep, uninterrupted sleep.

Now started the more messy part of Goblin Slayer's plan. Lizard Priest, High Elf Archer, and the titular man himself set into the task of executing each and every goblin on the first floor.

By the third goblin, High Elf Archer could barely even hold her knife, given how slick it was with the blood of fallen goblins. It sickened the elf as much as it vindicated her bubbling hatred of the goblins. It was Goblin Slayer that, accidentally, taught her the ideal manner in which to deal with the goblins. Namely, using their weapons to ensure his own was still in tip-top shape. Mimicking the man's actions, High Elf Archer turned the goblins' weapons against them and doubled her efficiency.

Soon after the group started, Deathtrooper reappeared. He had dropped from the fourth floor above and landed silently, somehow, before approaching Goblin Slayer. As the man went, he almost absently crushed the chests and necks of any goblin in his path, not even bothering to use his sword or their weapons.

"The upper floors are clear," High Elf Archer caught as the man spoke to Goblin Slayer, "I'll scout ahead and see what we're dealing with."

Goblin Slayer merely nodded, both men separating without another word and returning to their chosen tasks. High Elf Archer watched out of the corner of her eye as Deathtrooper slipped away, eventually venturing far enough into the dark cavern that even High Elf Archer's elven eyes lost him.

She returned to her horrid work with gusto, desiring to end this as quickly as possible, despite being darkly satisfying as it was. It took the trio, who were eventually joined by Priestess and Dwarf Shaman, a fair fifteen minutes to clear the room of goblins.

It was in silence that the group joined back together, Lizard Priest and High Elf Archer distinctly unsettled by all the death they had been party to within the last half-hour. Goblin Slayer, on the other hand, seemed otherwise unaffected, instead glancing towards the cavern Deathtrooper had left down.

"Something is wrong." Was all he said as he unsheathed his sword. Confused, High Elf Archer strained her ears to listen for whatever had alarmed the man. As it turned out, such an action was unnecessary as Deathtrooper appeared from the shadows, sprinting as fast as his long legs could carry him. He had his staff held under his arm and the crossbow still on his back, waving the group back with his free arm.

"Get to cover!" He snapped, faulting over the nearest column as he did so. At that moment, the entire gallery shook like there was an earthquake. High Elf Archer nearly lost her footing from the movement, but it was the deep, horrible voice from the depths of the darkness that made her retreat a few paces.

"I thought my goblins were a little quiet," The voice chuckled darkly, sounding both foreign and evil, "Should have figured I couldn't rely on them."

"Filth. Knowingly trespassing in my domain…" The beast roared, making its appearance. Deathtrooper's glowing sword and the general organization of the goblins suddenly all made sense to High Elf Archer, for the monster that had appeared was none other than an ogre, a minor demon!

"So, you're not a goblin." Goblin Slayer stated, a fact made rather obvious the _utter size of the thing_ , "You were right."

The last part of his comment was sent towards Deathtrooper, who was still hidden and fiddling with his staff.

"Of course it isn't a goblin! Don't you know what an ogre is?!" High Elf Archer demanded, her fear countered only by her disbelief at how absolutely dense Goblin Slayer was.

"No," Came the man's typically blunt answer, "Though I know of powerful types of goblins."

"You," The ogre growled, its rage clearly growing with each word spoken by the group, "Do you look upon me, granted this host by the Demon Lord's Generals, and turn up your nose?!" The ogre brought down its sword, which was perhaps closer to a club, in an attempt to crush the entire group. They all, either by accident or speed, managed to avoid the massive weapon.

"I don't know you or any of the Demon Lord's generals," Goblin Slayer was starting to sound more… _bored_ than anything, a fact that seemed to enrage the ogre further.

"Then allow me to introduce you-"

 _Thunk!_

Silence reigned as all present watched the progress of what seemed to be a small canister hurtling through the air, directly towards the face of the ogre. Evidently surprised by such a… _bizarre_ move, it did not dodge the projectile. It hit the ogre's face, bouncing off harmlessly with a small noise, earning further confusion for most everyone watching.

That is until it detonated. A pure white cloud of smoke spewed forth across the ogre's face, obscuring it from the group as a whole. For a moment, High Elf Archer was confused as to what had happened.

When the screams of agony and the smell of burning skin reached her ears and nose respectively, she understood to an extent. Whatever that white cloud was, it was burning the face of the ogre. High Elf Archer turned to face the one person she suspected guilty of this attack, noting the fact that Deathtrooper had retreated back into his cover and was loading another, similar canister into the end of his staff.

"The pain! What manner of sorcery is this?!" The ogre howled, hands shooting to it's seemingly melting face. It stumbled back a few paces, shaking the entire gallery as it went. Those with better than human senses of smell, namely High Elf Archer and Lizard Priest, recoiled from the smokey smell that reached their nostrils.

Deathtrooper put his staff on the column-turned-barricade.

"What are you waiting for?! Don't give him time to recover!" Then he squeezed the trigger. The roar that came from the weapon was as foreign as it was powerful, kicking all manners of dust and dirt from everything within ten feet of Deathtrooper. A flurry of familiar bolts flew up into the hands and face of the ogre, earning the man more furious roars and increasingly incoherent curses.

The group didn't need two warnings, launching into combat in their own ways. Priestess stayed back, obviously lacking any substantial ways of fighting, but the other four took the moment of distraction to throw everything they had. Lizard Priest and his newly summoned Dragontooth Warrior slashed through the right leg and heel of the ogre with reckless abandon. This onslaught forced the ogre to its knees, but the attacks did not stop there. Dwarf Shaman sent massive pieces of another portion of a downed column, the lot of it shredding the ogre's gut and chest. High Elf Archer peppered the beast's hands with arrows, hoping to force them away from its face and allow Deathtrooper's weapon to inflict more damage.

Goblin Slayer, upon reaching the left heel of the ogre, attempted to match Lizard Priest's work. Alas, his weapon was not near sharp enough to make such swift progress, but it did serve as another avenue of pain for the ogre.

"Keep up the pressure!" Deathtrooper repeated, still holding down the trigger and firing an increasingly wide spread of bolts.

"ENOUGH!" Bellowed the ogre and, with its right arm, swept from its right to the left. High Elf Archer, the nearest to that arm, deftly vaulted over it and landed in a perfected roll. Then, with a twinge of horror, she realized the next in line was Priestess, who was not near fast enough to get out of the path of the swing. Twirling, High Elf Archer tried to spot the young woman past the bloodied arm but could see nothing. For a tense moment, High Elf Archer searched for a glint of white in the resulting cloud of dust.

Relief flooded High Elf Archer's body when the glint did appear, Deathtrooper breaking the cloud with Priestess under his arm like a sack of potatoes. The young woman, for her part, just held on to her staff desperately tried to ensure she didn't swing around too much and make Deathtrooper's job more difficult.

The man slid to a stop near High Elf Archer, setting down Priestess as delicately as possible before raising his weapon once more.

"Oh you have got to fucking kidding me," He growled, lowering the weapon in disbelief. High Elf Archer, confused by the man's outburst, looked up at the ogre's _completely healed and clear of wounds_ face.

"By the gods," High Elf Archer agreed, nocking an arrow as Deathtrooper began his barrage again. Now, however, the ogre just took the punishment and raised his hand.

"You believe your potions are powerful, Alchemist?! I will show you power!" A ball of flame took form in the ogre's hand, quickly growing in size.

"Pull back, pull back! Get over here, Priestess, we're going to need the best shield you can make!"

"R-Right!" The young woman squeaked, the three remaining members and the construct sprinting back to the trio. She held up her staff as the fireball continued to grow.

" _Carbunculus…_ " It began its chant, the fireball beginning to pulsate angrily with barely restrained power. Priestess began her own chant, her quiet voice drowned out by the roar of the ogre.

" _Crescunt…_ " The remainder of the group arrived, forming behind Priestess and watching with trepidation as she prepared her spell.

" _Iacta!_ " The fireball flew out, speeding across the relatively short distance between the group of adventurers and the ogre.

"Protection!" A great wall of light materialized between the group and the fireball, impeding its progress. The fireball splashed against her shield like waves upon a cliffside, flames licking malevolently against its cracking walls.

 _It's going to give!_

The traitorous thought was squashed as soon as it came up, High Elf Archer put all her belief into Priestess. She was powerful enough, _had_ to be powerful enough to stop this, for all their sakes.

The ball did not stop its attack, pushing forwards and further damaging the wall.

"Do you really think to stop my magic with your feeble human miracle?!" The ogre let out a deep laugh, its voice deafening to the group as a whole, "It shall sunder and you shall burn!"

High Elf Archer watched Priestess's hands tighten around the staff and her face quickly stiffen. The girl repeated her chant, a second flash bathing them all. As the first wall shattered, another jumped up to meet the impending flames. The fireball was spent, its energies wasted on the first line of defense and unable to pierce the second. It detonated in one last attempt to destroy the adventurers, but it was to no avail.

The shield fell when the fire dissipated. Priestess, panting and sweating from the effort, collapsed into the waiting arms of Goblin Slayer.

"Thanks," The man said, and the young girl could only smile weakly.

"We'll take it from here." High Elf Archer agreed as she helped set the young woman down behind cover.

"Impudent little girl…" The ogre growled, its hand tightening around its weapon as its rage seemed to reach new heights, "Don't think you shall have it so easy as that elf!"

High Elf Archer's eyes snapped up to the ogre, her mind flooded with memories of that battered and beaten elf they had discovered. That same anger returned full force and was what pushed High Elf Archer to rise to her feet and once more take up her bow. She had missed the interaction between the rest of the group but was certainly present when they launched their attacks.

High Elf Archer ran up one of the fallen columns, running around the perimeter of the second floor. Goblin Slayer flanked around one side of the ogre while Lizard Priest and his Dragontooth Warrior went around to the other. Dwarf Shaman began the chant for one of his miracles but was stopped halfway through by the ogre focusing its attention upon him.

"Did you think I would let you finish-" That was stopped by a roar of agony, High Elf Archer's arrow finding the monster's eye and forcing to stumble a pace or two back.

High Elf Archer continued her speedy trek, calling out to Dwarf Shaman as she went.

"You dwarves are too slow!"

Dwarf Shaman did not dignify that with a response, instead opting to finishing his spell and barraging the ogre with stones. High Elf Archer took the moment to spot the last combatant of their group, noting he was not in the assault against the ogre directly nor firing at its face with his staff. Instead, the man was knelt in cover, fiddling with the bolt of his looted crossbow and… something unseen. High Elf Archer didn't know what the object was, but she knew enough that making sure Deathtrooper could finish was paramount.

Goblin Slayer and Lizard Priest seemed to have things covered in that corner, launching their attacks against the legs once more. While Lizard Priest's attacks proved to be effective, the same could not be said for Goblin Slayer's renewed attempts.

The ogre punished this foolish offensive by smashing its club-like sword into the man. While High Elf Archer could not hear the crunching of bones or the shattering of armor, she saw it well enough.

She didn't have time to check up on the man, Priestess was already rushing to the fallen Goblin Slayer's side. The ogre had begun speaking again, pulling the arrow from its eye and allowing it to near-instantly heal.

"Know this: I am no goblin," It growled, its beady eyes sweeping over the remaining fighters, "And I shall exact-"

The ogre threw its hand up and allowed a crossbow bolt, carrying a strange object strapped to it, to stick in with an almost exasperated expression.

"I would not fall for the same trick twice, Alchemist." The ogre growled, taking care to keep its hand away from its face in anticipation of the object exploding with the same white smoke from before.

"Yeah, tell me how that works out for you." Deathtrooper quipped before diving for cover, "Get down!" Dwarf Shaman, the Dragontooth Warrior, and Lizard Priest obeyed, likely fearing whatever it was Deathtrooper had concocted. High Elf Archer believed herself far enough to avoid the brunt of what he had deployed.

She was soon proved wrong.

The ogre turned its hand over to study the bolt, evidently confused as to what Deathtrooper could possibly use against it.

There was a split second when it seemed all air was dragged towards the object, dragging the breath from High Elf Archer's lungs as she stood in stunned silence. When that split second passed, an explosion comparable only to the fireball erupted across the ogre's hand and up its arm. The resulting eruption of energy sent High Elf Archer flying backward, feeling as if she were just kicked in the chest by a horse. She flopped onto the ground, trying and failed several times over to suck in a breath as her lungs seemed to forget how to breathe properly. Her entire world was spinning and a constant ringing sensation.

After perhaps fifteen seconds, she managed to get her faculties in order enough to sit up and search for the ogre. It had, again, fallen back and was clearly agonizing over the bloody stump that was once its left arm. In fact, the entire front of its body was scorched by fire which still seemed to be alight in places.

High Elf Archer jumped down from her perch, advancing on Deathtrooper who was laying on his back behind his cover and holding his helmet on his chest. For a moment, High Elf Archer was worried that the man had injured himself, based on the short breaths he was taking. However, the man quickly rose to his feet as she sprinted over.

"Why didn't you lead with that?!" She demanded, hitting the man over the head. Perhaps he was too shocked to properly react, but Deathtrooper just stared at High Elf Archer in confusion.

"What?!" The man yelled, unable to hear a word she had just said. Neither were given time to continue their conversation when the ogre gave a new roar of fury. They turned to face it, finding that, though it lacked an arm, the ogre had healed from the attack.

"I have changed my mind. I will slay your party, Alchemist, before ripping your knowledge of these weapons from your head!"

Deathtrooper blinked at the threat, not responding likely because he didn't hear it. He raised a small object, like the trigger mechanism on a crossbow but with extra parts, and started pulling the trigger. Bolts of red, smaller than those that came from his main staff, flew into the face of the ogre. It shrugged them off, instead deciding to charge Deathtrooper. The man pulled his helmet back on, pushed High Elf Archer one way, then dived the other. It was years of acrobatics that allowed High Elf Archer to roll back to her feet, a fortunate turn of events as the sword crashed down between her and Deathtrooper. High Elf Archer twisted and fired an arrow up towards the ogre's eyes again, but a slight turn of its face sent it stabbing into the side of its head.

"Not again, elf!" It growled, raising its sword once more and preparing to kill either her or Deathtrooper, who was bringing his staff around to bear.

"Fool," A monotone voice spoke in the brief silence before the attack.

Then, there was a flash of white.

* * *

When High Elf Archer came to, the first thing she wondered was: _Why am I so wet?_

Blinking a couple of times, the elf sat up to find herself lying atop a column that stood a few feet above a sudden pool of water. Deathtrooper was sat next to her feet, his helmet upturned and dripping with water as the man muttered to himself.

"What…" She croaked out, "What happened?"

Deathtrooper lookup up, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Seems you were right, those scrolls _were_ important," Deathtrooper explained, jerking his finger back behind him before giving his helmet a good shake.

"What scrolls…" High Elf Archer muttered, following the man's finger and stopping mid-sentence. Her eyes widened as she took in the obliterated form of the ogre. Her memories came flooding back, mixing with complete disbelief. Deathtrooper's explosive didn't put that thing down, what did that?! And why in the name of the gods was there so much water?!

"You were pretty drunk at the time, so I don't blame you," Deathtrooper, seeming to be back in good spirits, chuckled as he set his helmet down next to him, "Damn shame I didn't get a warning, the seal hadn't activated properly…"

"Elves don't get drunk." High Elf Archer snapped before shaking her head, groggy memories of what she supposed was the night before flickering through her groggy mind.

"That… doesn't explain the water. Where did it come from?"

Deathtrooper made to respond when the ogre spoke.

"What… What did you do?!"

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me…" Deathtrooper growled, rising to his feet and pulling his helmet back on. High Elf Archer narrowed her eyes, watching as the stumps that were the ogre's limbs began to, albeit slowly, regrow.

Goblin Slayer was stalking up tot he ogre, holding the tattered remains of a scroll in his hand and the shattered hilt of his sword in the other.

"A gate scroll," Goblin Slayer explained simply, "Linked to the bottom of the sea."

"Bottom of the sea?!" Repeated the ogre in disbelief, as if such an idea was the single dumbest idea anyone had ever made. In a sense, High Elf Archer agreed with it, but the results spoke for themselves. The immense danger from such a scroll could not be discounted if the state of the ogre and the room were any sign.

"I intended to destroy a goblin nest with that, but you will have to do," Goblin Slayer said.

"Hey, boss," Deathtrooper called, earning High Elf Archer's attention and cutting off the enraged response of the ogre. The man had taken off the sheath of his sword, throwing it over to Goblin Slayer, "Might need a sword to finish this."

Goblin Slayer caught the weapon, studying its ornate sheathe before pulling the blade out.

"You dare- You… You… Where did you get that weapon?!" The blue glowing had increased tenfold, illuminating the entire room with its now bright light. Goblin Slayer marched right up to the ogre, who had begun writhing in a vain attempt to escape its impending doom.

"No! Stay back! Keep that thing away from me!" Goblin Slayer ignored the demands of the ogre, clambering up its eviscerated chest and atop its head. Without a word, Goblin Slayer twirled the sword around and aimed it down.

"Goblins are much stronger than you are," Goblin Slayer noted, driving the blade down into the brain of the ogre. It screams of agony and terror were deafening to the group, but what truly surprised them all was the fact its skin seemed to start glowing.

Starting from the bottom of its torso, its body seemed to evaporate and flow into the sword. Goblin Slayer, clearly not expecting this, tried to pull the sword free but it didn't budge. It was as if the ogre was being absorbed into the sword itself, and after a minute or so, Goblin Slayer was left standing in the pool of water.

The glowing had returned to it's earlier dim hue, as if it had _not_ just absorbed the essence of a minor demon.

"That's… new." Deathtrooper commented absently, his eyes wide with shock.

That sentiment was shared by all of them.


End file.
